


The Road's Pretty Long From Here

by Porphyrios



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Anal Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lots of sexy times eventually, M/M, Male Slash, Mental Health Issues, Mild canon deviance, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Pining, Sex Talk, Slow Burn, lots of sleazy stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-08-23 06:22:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 75,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Porphyrios/pseuds/Porphyrios
Summary: Vain (SS) needs a guard, and ends up with someone who reminds him of someone he knew before the war.  Both he and MacCready have issues that need to be worked through, and neither are very good with impulse control.





	1. The Road's Pretty Long From Here

**Author's Note:**

> All Fallout 4 characters are the property of Bethesda, and I am not making any money off of this, writing it purely as an homage to one of the best games I've ever played.
> 
> ***
> 
> This is the first installment. Bear with me because this story is partially writing itself; I know where I want these two to go, but they seem unsure if that's where they want to go. Let's all find out together, shall we? Kudos and comments welcome, readers are the wind beneath my wings. :)
> 
> ***

"Nick, explain to me again why we need to come in a sleazy bar in Goodneighbor?" Vain stumbled down the dark stairs, ignoring the welcome pitch offered by a bald ghoul in a tuxedo. Clearly this was an old subway station. Unlike the others he had been in since his awakening, though, there was no sound of an aggressive PA system complaining to non-existent passengers. Instead, the sound of lounge music drifted up the stairs, and as Vain rounded the corner to the bar proper, there was an actual live singer preparing to perform. Nick Valentine strolled in behind him, torn artificial face and glowing yellow eyes looking even more bizarre than usual in the dim lighting. The other patrons all looked up at the beat up synth in the ragged overcoat and fedora, then looked away quickly. Vain could tell that Nick was known here and at least tolerated, if not necessarily liked.

"Like I told you before," the synth detective said in his heavy back-bay accent, "I need to do some things you probably wouldn't find interesting." Vain was constantly amused by the contrast between the artificial exterior of Nick and the voice; he couldn't imagine a more bizarre combination. "I have a cold case I need to investigate. And I've learned my lesson about letting you wander around unsupervised. Two days with nobody to keep an eye on you and who knows what might happen." Nick's chuckle was matched by Vain's snicker; Nick was both mystified and annoyed by Vain's childlike need to investigate anything and everything that caught his eye (and pocket it, investigate it or fight it depending on what seemed appropriate).

Vain started to walk over to the bar to see what was on offer; he was intrigued by the Mr. Handy bartender, though from what he could hear the accent was decidedly down-market from his own beloved Codsworth back in Sanctuary Hills. Before he made it across the room, he spotted two muscular figures in combat armor moving into the back room, which a neon sign overhead proclaimed to be the "VIP Room". Vain wondered what one had to do to be considered a VIP in a place like this. Interestingly enough, the other patrons seemed even more blind to the presence of the two men than they were to Valentine... their progress across the room was marked by subtle sidesteps and averted eyes. Even more concerning was the X'ed out skull painted on the back plate of their combat armor, marking them as Gunners. Vain had encountered enough Gunners already to know that they were vicious contract killers; hopefully they weren't here to make a hit, he thought. His eyes met Nick's. Despite the fact that Nick's fixed optic sensors weren't designed for a range of motion like human eyes, Vain knew from personal experience that the synth had a wide range of disgusted expressions, and he was wearing one of his best right now.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in. Gunners." Nick's tolerance for everyone, even gangsters, was high, so the heavy disgust in his voice was surprising to say the least.

"Not a fan, I take it?" Vain glanced at the VIP Room door again, but the men had vanished inside. His curiosity twitched. Before he thought consciously about it, Vain found his feet moving him in that direction. He stopped and cocked an eyebrow at Nick. "I'm just gonna..."

Nick sighed, already seeing where this was going. "Be careful, would ya? And please... don't start a fight in here. Hancock will kill us both." With a sarcastic two finger salute, Vain melted into the shadows and slid towards the entrance to the VIP Room. Nick shook his head at the bottomless curiosity of his traveling companion and went to chat up the bartender. At least he could understand a cranky robot like Whitechapel Charlie, being a cranky robot himself in a lot of ways.

Vain slid through the corridor, knowing that he wasn't being seen. He had always been stealthy, and after all his training in the Army... well, his group weren't called the Shadows for nothing. Sounded like the party had already gotten started by the time he got a line of view into the room. The two big mercs were standing over someone Vain couldn't see whose name (based on the angry discussion) was apparently MacCready, but they were standing well inside intimidation range over the other man, who was both slight-built and seated. A well worn but clearly beloved sniper rifle was propped against the wall beside him. Snatches of overheard conversation were about MacCready working as a mercenary in the Commonwealth, but as Vain slunk around the corner, he saw the one with a half-shaved head grab his own crotch and tell MacCready "You know you miss this, kid." Vain suddenly realized that he might be in the middle of a lover's quarrel instead of the shady dealings he was expecting. That suspicion was hardly erased by the response.

"I don't take orders from you... not anymore. So why don't you take your girlfriend and walk out of here while you still can." Well, Vain thought, that's an interesting way to end a discussion. He couldn't shake the sense that MacCready's voice sounded familiar, oddly enough. I wonder if those two Gunners really are...

The other Gunner immediately confirmed Vain's suspicions by jerking guiltily, looking around and yelling "What? Winlock, tell me we don't have to listen to this shit." Yep, looks like MacCready hit a nerve, snickered Vain. Not the first two to find closeness on the battlefield.

MacCready stood up and Vain's breath caught as he saw him. What the fuck? Zell?! How was that even possible? Was there another Vault somewhere, or... In his shock, Vain realized he was missing the rest of the conversation. Winlock was saying "You can play the tough guy all you want. But if we hear you're still operating inside Gunner territory, all bets are off. You got that?" A bit more posturing, and the two Gunners stormed out. Vain's head was whirling. This MacCready guy couldn't possibly be his old friend... could he? 

As Vain got closer, the answer was clearly "no". Although the build and the profile were eerily close, once he got close this guy was clearly too young to be Zell. The eyes were the same shape, but bright blue instead of brown, and the young man's teeth were in considerably worse shape than Zell's. MacCready's cheekbones were a little more pronounced, his shoulders were a little too broad, and his left hand was missing the distinctive scar that Vain remembered all too well. He was actually better looking than Zell, Vain thought with surprise. His contemplation of the man in front of him was interrupted when his appraisal was noticed. With a sharp, suspicious glance at the newcomer, MacCready said "Look, man, if you're preaching about the Atom or looking for a 'friend'," the word accompanied by a look that explained exactly what was meant by 'friend' in this context, "you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun... then we can talk."

Vain realized that not only did his frank appraisal of this guy likely give the wrong impression, but that his memories of people two hundred years dead weren't going to help this conversation any. "Maybe." He glanced at the door to the room, and back. "Why don't you tell me who those guys were first."

MacCready snorted. "A couple of morons looking to climb the ladder of success by stepping on everyone else on the way up." He grimaced. "You shouldn't be surprised, though, that's how it goes when you're running with the Gunners."

Vain didn't think the man in front of him looked particularly like one of the Gunners, but he had to ask. "So... you're not with them now, I take it?" MacCready's snort almost knocked his own cap off.

"Stuck with them for a while cause the money was good, but I never fit in." Vain thought that sounded a little different from the clearly personal issues he had seen earlier, but kept his peace. MacCready went on, "That's why I made a clean break and started flying solo." The blue eyes narrowed in distrust. "Now, what about you? How do I know I won't end up with a bullet in my back?"

"You don't." Vain said soberly. No point in sugar coating it, and anyone raised in the Commonwealth would know the lie if he said anything different. He hadn't been here long but he knew that already. "That's part of the risk, right?"

MacCready nodded, unsurprised. "Can't argue with that." The young man looked down for a second, seeming to think about something. Vain assumed business wasn't very good, given the tattered state of the guy's clothes and the worn look of the ridiculous cap he was wearing. MacCready finally looked back up, wearing what he probably thought was an open and honest expression, but which just managed to look discouraged and tired. "I'll tell you what. Price is 250 caps, up front. And there's no room for bargaining. What do you say?" 

Vain laughed internally; this guy was a horrible negotiator. His face was an open book, and the tough as nails routine would work better if he didn't look like he was about to fall over from hunger and exhaustion. In spite of himself, though, he felt a wave of sympathy at least partly driven by how much MacCready looked like Zell. Before he thought much more about it, he had grabbed 250 caps from his stash and forked them over. The young sniper's face lit up before he could lock it back down, but all he said was "All right, boss.... you got yourself an extra gun. Lead on." He turned to pick up his rifle and bags, ragged duster slapping his legs.

"OK, good. I'm Vain. What do I call you?" Sighing, he braced for the jokes in 3...2...1...

"I would be too, if I looked like you." MacCready snickered. Vain knew he was handsome, even with the scar that crossed his cheek, but these jokes got old. His good looks and blond hair had drawn plenty of attention in the old days, but he often wished his squad had been a little less playful with their names.

"Thanks, I think you're pretty hot too." Vain was amused at how his deadpan standard response to that particular line made the younger man blush beet red. God, that was adorable, he thought, but pushed the thought away immediately. He isn't Zell, remember, he reminded himself sternly. Don't let the past fuck up the present. "Now that we've got that out of our system, I heard that other guy call you MacCready. That your name?"

"Yeah, boss. Or you can call me Mac if you want. Up to you."

"OK, Mac, let's get this show on the road, shall we? Let's go explain to Nick that I found someone to watch my back." He waved the younger man towards the door, but Mac held back and shook his head.

"You lead, I follow. That was the deal, right?" With a chuckle, Vain went out. Nick was probably going to blow a gasket. Literally.

=

Vain held up two fingers, pointed at Mac and motioned left, held up two more and motioned right. MacReady nodded and slid off to the left. Vain grinned humorlessly, an ugly expression. Since he came out of the Vault, a lot of things had been weird, but this feeling never changed. Going into combat was always the same. It had been like this in Okinawa, felt like this in Irkutsk, and it still felt the same, two hundred and however many years later. Even if the enemy was big, green and half naked. Damn, Vain thought, what I wouldn't give for a few Marines in T-60s right now, they'd go through these assholes like a bullet through a bottle.

"A noise!" Man, these things were dumb. Strong as hell, excellent vision and hearing, but dumb as a bag of rocks. They looked like humans, sort of, but apparently they had the mental capacity of a particularly stupid dog. Even though this was his third or fourth encounter with them, Vain still wasn't clear about what they were, or where they came from. Their diet was pretty obvious, though, going by the human bones and suspicious looking meat around the stewpot they were all sitting around. Vain took a deep breath; time to be a good little sniper and go into Shooting Time. Time seemed to slow. Vain took careful aim with his scoped rifle, and the head of one of the mutants exploded. One down. The other yelled out "What?" just as his head did the smashed-peach imitation too. Even in his fugue state, Vain calmly noticed that Mac seemed to be as good a shot as he claimed to be. Good to know. Tracking his gun across the clearing Vain picked off his other target, a giant wearing hammered metal chest plates who had decided that it was a perfect time to run around yelling "Who's there?" I'm here, asshole, that's who, Vain snorted. Targets cleared, Vain dropped back into normal thought. How the hell were any of these things still alive when they were this goddamned dumb? Mac ought to be taking out the fourth one any second now and...

= 

"What... happened?" Vain tried to roll over and almost vomited from the blinding pain. A huge green body was lying next to him, almost on top of him, well ventilated with bullet holes.

"Hold still, boss," came Mac's voice, "let me get this stim in you." Vain felt the needle slide home in his ribs and felt the flesh start to reknit itself. Well, he thought sourly, at least I know I can trust this guy. If he was going to screw me over and run off with all my stuff, this is where it would have gone down. Mac grinned and went on. "Seems like you were looking like a particularly fun toy to the last greenie, so he decided to kick you around like a ball and see if you would bounce." The pain was receding a bit, but Vain could tell it was going to be a while before he was going to be moving again.

"Took your sweet time, didn't you?" Just talking hurt. "Were you planning to shoot him or fuck him to death? I guess you like 'em big and green." It was so easy to fall back into the Army banter. Vain's joke got the first actual laugh out of Mac that he had seen. The kid's normally hard face just lit up, and suddenly Mac looked really young. Vain tried to shift his position again, but a spike of agony shot through his wounded side. Didn't look like just one stim was going to fix this. Mac noticed and wordlessly hit him with another needle. Vain was starving from the stims but he would rather die malnourished than eat anything from a mutant camp. Even thinking about food was enough; his stomach chose this moment to growl loudly.

"Wasn't me he was trying to stick it in." Mac snickered, still grinning. "Good thing I'm not as pretty as you." As he was talking, Mac was rummaging in his old beat up knapsack. He pulled out a stack of dried jerky strips and tossed a few to Vain. Damn, this kid was good. "Not like they got anything to f... screw you with anyway."

"You're kidding, right?" Vain had never thought about the mutants as anything other than a hazard of the new world he found himself in, but suddenly he was curious. As he chewed the dried meat, he looked at one of the bodies now littering the campsite. The loincloth it wore had ripped halfway off when it fell, and Mac was right... there was nothing there. Just a flap of some sort. "That flap... you mean they're all like that?"

"Yeah" Mac said, grimacing. "I've fought and run from these things for 15 years now, never seen them f... have sex, never seen any babies or eggs or nothing. They talk to each other, but nothing more complicated than what you've heard. They just... show up. No idea where they come from or where new ones get made, maybe this Institute place everyone is so scared of. Makes as much sense as anything else." Suddenly Mac grinned and switched topics. "So, you impressed yet? I told you I was a damn good shot."

Vain rolled his eyes. He was impressed, but no way was he going to admit it in these circumstances. "I don't know, I hadn't really noticed." He cut his eyes over at the sniper and sure enough, there was the flush, right on schedule.

"Oh come on! You've got skills, I'm sure you know talent when you see it!" Mac's self-promoting smirk vanished in a flash of irritation. Vain had to grin a little when he saw how Mac was fishing for praise.

"Yeah, I suppose so." He aimed his grin at Mac and slapped him on the shoulder, forgetting his wound. At the twinge of the remaining bruises, he winced.

"There you go, that wasn't so hard to admit, was it?" Mac's cocky smirk was back, but it wasn't like he was overstating his skills. Honestly, Vain reflected, this kid was a natural. He would have fit right in with the rest of Shadow squad, and his cocky attitude would have fit in as well. Vain was just wondering if it was the Gunners who trained him so well when Mac's next words stole the breath from his lungs. "I'm completely self-taught, you know. Picked up a sniper rifle when I was ten, and never looked back. Always thought it was smarter to hit my targets at long range. I mean, why take chances, right?" Vain was even more astonished as Mac told him of his previous life in the Capital Wasteland (which Vain realized was probably all that was left of DC) and his time as the mayor of a settlement made up of kids. Yet another stim and some water, and Vain felt the pain easing up, but the chems were making him a little woozy. When Mac said "So, there you have it, my whole life in a nutshell." Vain just said the first thing that popped into his mind.  


"Sounds like the road can be a lonely place... until you meet someone to share it with." He immediately kicked himself. What the hell was wrong with him? Just because this guy looked like an old flame was no reason to...

"I... well I... never thought of it that way." Mac's blush flamed into existence again as he widened his eyes. Vain was ready to die of embarrassment, but his eyebrows climbed his forehead when Mac continued on with "Maybe that's why I feel so comfortable telling you all this. Look, I know I tend to be a pain in the a... I mean, I know I tend to be arrogant and I come off like I want to be alone. Nothing could be further from the truth - being alone scares the heck out of me. Now that we've been traveling together for a while, I'm beginning to realize how much I missed having someone I could depend on. I just wanted you to know that I'm going to do everything I can to see that it stays that way." Mac looked down, clearly shocked at himself for saying all that. Clearing his throat, he said "OK, I think I've said quite enough. So... let's check on this side of yours." Vain had to admit that he had almost forgotten he was wounded during that little speech.

Vain jumped as Mac reached out and felt gently along his wounded side. Vain felt the pressure of slender fingers, stronger than they looked, sliding down his ribs checking for sore spots. He knew Mac felt him twitch, and he fought the urge to draw away. Vain wasn't usually a big fan of being touched, but this was uncomfortable for a different reason. Whether Mac meant to imply it or not, Vain felt like maybe his attraction to the other man wasn't so one-sided after all. After checking the healing, Mac drew his hand back quickly but Vain had to admit that the sniper was a decent field medic. There was still some light bruising, but the stims had done their work.

Vain grinned at Mac to cover his awkward feeling, twisting to test his side for any remaining sharp pains. "So yeah, you're right, you're a good sniper. You also make a good doctor, even if your bedside manner is shit. How'd a smart mouthed kid from the Capital Wasteland with a big gun learn so much field medicine?" This was always the weird part, Vain reflected. How do you thank someone you barely know for saving your life?

Mac's face flushed and his expression was immediately thunderous. Holy shit, thought Vain, what did I... "Don't ever call me 'kid'." Mac shouted angrily. He looked furious and... scared? Suddenly the shutters were down behind those blue eyes again, hard. "My name is Mac, or MacCready. Nothing else. Boss." Vain knew he had screwed up as soon as he saw Mac's face. Shit. That moment of sharing was obviously dead. Well, no point in making it worse.

"Okay, Mac, let's go tell the old fart at the greenhouse that his ugly ass neighbors aren't a problem any more." A grunt was the only response. After a few more attempts at conversation fell flat, Vain let the rest of the hike pass in silence. He felt a little hurt that their moment of closeness had vanished so completely, but there was nothing to be done now. Shit, shit, shit.

=

Later that night, they found a ruined house that had hosted travelers before and settled in until dawn. After setting up some basic perimeter defenses and building a small campfire in the open main room, Vain tried again to break the uncomfortable silence. "So, I know I was out for a long time, but explain to me... that old man and woman were living in a house hours away from those mutants, a half day away at a good pace, easy. There were groups of people closer to the greenies in every direction, but they claimed those big bastards were bothering them, specifically. Were willing to pay a lot of caps to get rid of them, even. Do you think they pissed the greenies off personally, or was it all bullshit from the start?" Mac shrugged and looked away.

Fuck this, Vain thought. He's either going to talk like a normal person or he's got to go. Vain couldn't stand it when he used to get the silent treatment from Nora, and she was his wife; no way was he going to put up with it from some dude he had only known a few days, no matter how much he reminded him of Zell. "Look, Mac." The other man looked up at the change in tone from where he sat next to the fire. Light and shadows flickered across Mac's face, making his expression impossible to read but highlighting his cheekbones, turning his usually bright blue eyes into shadows. Vain held up his hands. "I don't know what I said that pissed you off, but I can tell I stepped on your toes bad. I didn't mean any disrespect. Can we get back to good?" Mac looked away, and Vain didn't know if what he said had gotten through or not. Finally the younger man looked back over and shifted around, then met Vain's eyes.

"Yeah. OK." Came the reply, almost too soft to hear. "Yeah, we're good. Just... don't ever call me 'kid', OK?" Mac's eyes bored into Vain from where he sat. Apparently this was important.

"No problem, Mac. Like I said, we don't know each other that well yet. I apologize, won't happen again." Vain was glad to at least know what the issue was. The ki... no, Vain reminded himself, cutting the thought off midstream. _Mac_ clearly had problems with that word, and it wasn't like Vain didn't have his own scars to bear.

"And, uh... thanks. You know, for apologizing." Mac looked uncertain in the firelight, unease clearly visible on his face. "Most people wouldn't think of it, let alone do it." Vain wondered again how old the other man was. There hadn't been any times given as to how long ago he left Little Lamplight. He guessed Mac was in his early twenties at most, even considering the signs of malnutrition. He knew better than to ask, since age was clearly a hot button. He could only imagine how quickly children had to grow up in the crazy world that had developed after the war, let alone kids that had to raise themselves. It was frankly amazing any of these folks could function at all. Mac's fingers were restless, plucking at the fabric of his duster where it was rucked up around him, picking at shreds of carpet and leaves from the bare concrete floor. Realizing what he was doing, he picked up his rifle, pulled out a cleaning cloth and started to polish the barrel.

"Hey, I fucked up, I'll own it." Hopefully this would smooth things out again. Vain was tired of the awkward silence. He stood up. "Checking the perimeter, back in five." Mac's nod and direct look were a welcome sight, more acknowledgement than Vain had received since the argument that afternoon. As Vain left, he saw Mac ready his weapon just in case it was needed. Someone had trained this man well.

Vain stepped out and crouched to the side of the door from the ruined house they were in. After his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he paced off around the edge of the house, noting every branch of overgrown shrubbery and crack in the broken pavement. Checklist... main door clear, bay window clear, mine untripped outside kitchen window, mine untripped outside bathroom window, bedroom window untouched, mine untripped on pathway. No movement detected in neighboring ruins. Night noises normal. The familiar routine calmed him, centered him somehow. Take the man out of the Army, Vain thought for probably the millionth time, but you never get the Army back out of the man. 

He remembered like it was yesterday what it felt like to finally pack up and leave the base in Anchorage, headed home. He was so excited to see Nora again. Lead a 'normal life', whatever the fuck that was. But when he got back, it was just all so... empty. At least when he was in the Army, he had things to do. He was a sniper, and a damn good one, part of Shadow team. Once he got back, though, nobody even knew the word 'sniper'. If he talked about anything but the most trivial stuff he saw or did, people got all uncomfortable. Everyone in Sanctuary Hills would go out of their way to 'thank him for his service', but then they would rather eat broken glass than find out what that service meant. He and Nora were good, but even she struggled with the nights he would wake up in a cold sweat, convinced he could hear Chinese troops coming towards his position or Ugandan Shock Impi rolling through the woods. Things bothered him that never made sense to Nora; how jumpy he got at loud noises, how he needed to see the exits in a room, even Codsworth. Codsworth reminded Vain too much of Kang and Graybo, the Mr. Gutsy support units for his platoon. Nora said he was "silly" for making the comparison, because "Codsworth is just good household help, for goodness' sake, he's only programmed to be peaceful". Watching Codsworth engage defense protocols against raiders and wildlife made Vain wish Nora could have seen the robot burning people alive and lopping off limbs just so he could tell her "told you so". No need to go down that rabbit hole, though. Winning an argument with a living wife was almost impossible, winning an argument with a dead one was out of the question.

Stepping back through the door, he caught Mac's eye and said "Clear." He got a nod in response, and the other man visibly relaxed where he was sitting on the unrolled sleeping bag.

"So..." Mac said, looking off to the side before glancing back at Vain. "Not trying to pry, but you said earlier you were 'out for a long time'." Oh boy, thought Vain, are we really going to have this discussion right now? "Where are you from? You're not from the Capital like me, and you don't seem too familiar with the Commonwealth." The younger man's eyes roved around the room. "If it's none of my business, that's cool, just let me know."

"No, it's fine." Vain sighed and sat down on the other bedroll. In for a penny... Stirring up the embers of the fire, he cracked open a can of water and poured it in a pan to heat it for coffee. Even instant coffee was rare here... who would have thought Vain would ever seriously miss a cup of that burnt crap they used to serve at Joe's Spuckies? "So... You've heard of Vault-Tec, right?" Almost an hour went by as the tale unfolded. After a while, MacReady's initial outbursts of "Are you fu... messing with me? Seriously?" had settled down into a dubious silence. Vain wasn't sure if the younger man believed him or not, but he'd told the story as clearly as he could. Nora, the cryo-vault, Shaun being stolen, waking up in Sanctuary, Codsworth, Preston and the Quincy gang... when he laid it out like that, it seemed ridiculous even to him, and he had lived it.

Mac shook his head and looked up. He looked sympathetic, blue eyes soft in the firelight. "Unreal. I'm... sorry about your wife. Seriously. I know what that's like. Firsthand."

"Oh." Vain was a bit shocked; he couldn't even imagine having married and already lost a spouse at Mac's age. The more he saw of the Commonwealth, the harsher it seemed, and the harder on its residents. No wonder the raiders drugged themselves into oblivion, Vain thought sourly. "I'm sorry to hear that, Mac. Nobody should have to go through a loss like that."

"Yeah. It's been... well, maybe I'll tell you the story sometime." The message was clear; tonight was not 'sometime'. Vain was fine with that. Mac would open up, or not, as he wanted.

Vain had long since finished his coffee, but didn't feel like making more. Mac took a sip of the black sludge in his cup and grimaced. "OK, so if I understood you right, you were living in a town up north before the Big War, right? And after the Vault thing, you helped a group from Quincy settle there not long ago?"

"That's about the size of it, yeah." Vain guessed that meant Mac believed him. He wasn't sure he would have believed that story from someone else, but so much other weird shit went on in the Commonwealth, maybe this was just par for the course. "Honestly, I'm a little surprised you believe me. Story sounds like bullshit when I put it all together like that."

"As for why I believe you... Boss, I don't mean any disrespect when I tell you that you clearly don't belong here." Mac's voice had the same teasing tone he used when he was talking shit, but his face was dead earnest. "You're too clean, you're too healthy, and you're just too... too good. When I was growing up in Little Lamplight, we had a couple of books that told us stories from before the war. You act and look and sound like someone from one of those stories. I've known since that first day in Goodneighbor that you weren't from the Commonwealth. That story might have been crazy from anybody else, but coming from you? I believe it." Mac gritted his teeth and looked off to the side. Vain suspected he was working himself up to something.

"So... about earlier," Mac muttered, casting an apologetic but still somewhat defiant look at Vain. The blond raised an eyebrow, but didn't respond otherwise. They had barely gotten back to civil, he didn't want to provoke Mac again. "Boss, you have to realize, the Gunners were fu... uh, messed up. When you were a conscript, the lowest level like a recruit, you were the property of anyone sergeant and above. And I mean property in every way. Basically a slave. They could do whatever they wanted to you. Remember the two assh... jerks that were threatening me in the Third Rail? Winlock and Barnes? So they were both sergeants, and they are sort of a couple, right? But neither one of them was willing to be the, uh, receiver, if you catch my meaning. So they would grab a random recruit they thought was cute, force him into a bed and they would take turns. Together. A lot of the Gunners did sh... stuff like that. I was... well, I mean, that was why I left." Mac looked away, shame written all over his face. He was hunched over where he sat, arms wrapped tightly around his legs. Vain suddenly felt like a total asshole. Any lingering sense of being hurt vanished in a burst of horrified sympathy for the younger man.

"Mac that's... Jesus. I'm sorry, man, that's a million kinds of fucked up. Did you get away before they..." Vain couldn't continue, and didn't even know why he was asking; this was as far into the none-of-his-business zone as it could possibly get. He opened a can of purified water and took a sip, more to have something to do with his hands than anything else. Suddenly the objection to being called 'kid' made a horrible kind of sense.

"No." The young sniper looked down, hiding his eyes. The firelight flickered off the high cheekbones and picked out the stiff tendons along his tense jawline where his teeth were clenched. Vain wanted to reach out, comfort the other man somehow, but he also suspected that physical contact probably wouldn't be welcome right now. After a moment, Mac repeated "No, I didn't." in a quiet voice. Without looking up, eyes still hidden by the brim of that ridiculous green hat, Mac said "I shouldn't have yelled at you. If you don't want to travel with me any more, I understand, I just..."

Vain interrupted. "I don't want to hear any bullshit about leaving." He tried to project as hard as he could with his voice that he cared, that nobody should go through something like what Mac had described. "It wasn't your fault. What they did was fucked up, but it was on them. You did absolutely nothing wrong. You're a great help to me, a hell of a good shot, and I'm proud to have you."

"... Oh." Mac looked up, clearly started out of his bad memories by an unexpected answer, and even more unexpected praise. "That's... wow. OK. Thanks." Shaking his head and visibly pulling himself out of his thoughts, he sat back on his bedroll and resumed cleaning the barrel of his rifle. Mac had his his legs stuck out towards the fire. Vain couldn't help but notice the spot where a pale thigh showed through a rip in the jeans, but he was determined not to start that train of thought, thank you very much. 

Mac stood up and gathered his rifle. "My turn to check the perimeter. Back in 5. You should get ready and turn in, you look like shit." He gave a grin that showed every broken, crooked tooth in his face, and still made him so handsome Vain's breath caught in his throat. "...Boss." As the younger man stepped out through the door, Vain dragged his sleeping bag over against the wall and grinned to himself. In spite of the rocky start, looked like he had made a friend. When Mac came in and said "Clear", Vain flopped down without a word and was asleep before his head touched the fabric.


	2. The Past Is Just Yesterday's Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our Intrepid Hero gets the offer to help Mac with his personal problems, names are explained, the past is discussed, and other diuerse alarums occur.

The next morning, Vain could tell something had shifted. Mac seemed reserved again, for sure - all that chatty closeness from the night before had been folded up and put away, but Vain caught the sniper eyeing him when he thought Vain wasn't looking. Not just once, either. Something seemed to be on his mind. Well, he sighed philosophically, Mac would either get around to saying what was on his mind or he wouldn't. 

The day dragged on, uncharacteristically quiet. They looted through a number of houses left vacant by the war. Despite their vigilance, there was no real danger encountered. Mac seemed obsessed with the idea that all old buildings must be swarming with feral ghouls, but there was nothing but pre-War items and filth in any of them. Even Mac's constant bitching and moaning about being a pack mule and hating to carry all the found items was more funny than irritating. Vain found himself admiring the other man and thinking about how he hadn't seemed offended by the flirting the previous night. The line of his thighs was visible in those ripped jeans, and those cheekbones were amazing. Vain realized he was walking in a state of half-distraction. They were crossing an area of overgrowth between two neighborhoods, and he should pay closer attention. If only Mac didn't look so damn much like... 

_poppoppopPOP_

"Trouble, boss. Sounds like raiders." Mac was watching the edge of the overgrowth in the empty scrub ahead right where it shaded into street. Muffled shouts came from the next street over, beyond the buildings ahead. "Seems like they've met somebody to play with."

Well, that was a welcome distraction. "Well it would be awfully unfriendly to just pass by without saying hello..." Mac's answering grin was every bit as bloodthirsty as his own.

As they crept down a shadowed alley and peeked into the street, it became quickly apparent that the raiders had been trying to punch far above their weight. A small crew of four Gunners stood in the middle of the street, surrounded by dead raider bodies. The raiders were typical wasteland trash, wearing scraps and carrying cheap pipe weapons. The Gunners didn't look like they had taken a single hit. One raider hold out who had a vantage point up on a fire escape stuck his head over to take a bead and caught a bullet to the temple from a grizzled old Gunner sergeant, promptly toppling over the side of the building like a sack of potatoes. Two young conscripts cheered sarcastically at the sight and clapped as the last raider dropped. The sergeant whipped around quickly and hit the nearest one with the butt of her rifle right on the jaw, knocking him down and out with one blow.

"Shut that fucking noise up!" Her haggard face showed years of stressful living, grey hair sticking out from under the military cap she was wearing. Vain could tell she was a good sergeant, because she had mastered the art of looking like the angel of death incarnate. "You think this is all a big joke, don't you, you little shitbags? You never know what might be out here! But here you useless fuckers are, clapping and cheering like kids who found some candy. Now what you're gonna do is... " Vain wondered if they should engage with them or just... Movement caught his eye from beside him, and the sergeant's head exploded like a dropped melon. Engage it is, he thought sourly. Raising his own rifle, he drew a bead on the recruit that was still standing and shot him in the neck. Killshot. Worry about the downed one later. Mac cursed softly beside him as shots were returned from behind a brick porch; seemed like the other Gunner had found some cover. The kid on the ground picked that moment to woozily try to sit up, and got a .45 caliber trepanning for his troubles. He reached out to signal to Mac that he would circle, but when he glanced over the other man was nowhere to be seen. Guess I'm the cover then, Vain sighed. He kept a fairly steady rain of bullets on the steps and stayed out of view, until a sharp, single shot rang out and a body fell flat in the street, the back of its head now missing. One thing for sure, Vain had to admit if only to himself, the kid was a hell of a shot.

As Mac slouched back into view, Vain said "A little warning next time would be nice."

"They were Gunners, boss. I told you last night, I hate those fu... guys." Mac's eyes were wide and staring, and Vain knew this was clearly someone on the verge of freaking out. His face was pale, and he was breathing heavily through his nose.

"OK, Mac. Gunners are KOS, got it." Vain wasn't sure why he was willing to indulge someone he had known for less than two weeks by picking up their vendetta, but why not? Wasn't like the Gunners had run up to him offering him friendship and cakes when he crawled out of the Vault.

"What's KOS?" Mac looked less emotional, but a bit confused. Vain turned to check the area. Mac was clearly still too distracted to check the perimeter, and the old sergeant had been right... there really could be anything out here.

"Kill on sight." Vain suddenly felt very old. "Sorry, guess that slang didn't survive the war."

"Yeah," Mac grinned suddenly. "Kill on sight. KOS. I like it."

They picked through the corpses, looting ammo and anything useful from the raiders and Gunners alike. One of the Gunners was carrying an old crystal decanter from somewhere, and Vain exclaimed in delight even as Mac said "Just leave it!" and rolled his eyes. Finally, they climbed up the fire escape the last Raider had been on and found a nice little campsite hidden away on top of the building. The raiders hadn't been there long enough to build anything, but there was a campfire and some sleeping bags, at least. And... oh yes, Vain thought, bless their ugly little hearts. A coffee pot.

"Coffee, Mac?"

"I... uh, sure." The lack of enthusiasm was obvious.

"Not your favorite, eh? It was a lot better before the War, I have to say." Vain rummaged in his bag. "Nuka Cola?"

"Now you're speaking my language." The sniper took the drink with a grin and popped the cap off carefully, stowing it in his pocket and taking a big swig. Vain started setting the fire and prepping the coffee pot for his brew.

"So, Mac... You talked about your history with Winlock and Barnes, but mind filling me in on why the whole organization is KOS? I know those two were monsters, but why so much hate for the whole crew?" Mac shook his head soberly, and took a deep breath. Late afternoon sunlight streamed down around him, but his eyes looked a thousand miles away.

"Boss. You have no idea of how bad the Gunners are. The things they do to people. I didn't either, or I never would have signed up when they sent out a call for snipers." Mac looked straight at Vain, holding his eyes. Vain was momentarily distracted by the play of sunlight across the sniper's face, his deep blue eyes; god he was handsome. Finally, though, Mac's words sunk in. The younger man smirked a little and cocked an eyebrow, having noticed Vain staring, but he continued. "Here's an example. When I joined up, there was a dude named Peebo, one of the other recruits."

"Peebo? Seriously?" Vain snickered. Who the hell named their kid something like Peebo?

"Yeah, I know, dumb name, his parents were scavvers from up north somewhere. But Peebo was a good dude. Kind-hearted, friendly, real stand up sort... just not very bright. The thing with Peebo was, he was ugly. And I mean, real ugly. Like, scare a deathclaw ugly. He had survived a ghoul attack as a kid, and his face was all bitten up, and his body was just, I don't know, put together weird. But he was a really nice guy, way too nice to get mixed up with the Gunners. Thing is, Peebo let slip during his first day of training that he was a virgin. No shock, right, looking like he did, but he should never have said it. From that point on, everyone ragged him about it constantly. That was bad enough, but then Peebo got a huge crush on this sergeant named Lee. Lee figured it out quick because like I said, Peebo wasn't too clever. Lee wasn't even into dudes, he just thought it was an opportunity to have some fun. He led Peebo along, gave him little presents, complimented him, protected him from the other sergeants, treated him special. Lee thought it was all hysterical, I heard him laughing about it with some of the officers, but poor Peebo was completely head over heels. This goes on for a few weeks, and finally Lee arranges for Peebo to come to his quarters at night. Sets up a romantic dinner, the works. Lee gets Peebo all worked up, tells him to strip down, and turns off the lights. Just when poor Peebo thinks he's about to have the time of his life and finally stop being a virgin all at once, the lights come on and all the other senior Gunners are in the room, yelling and making fun of him for being in Lee's bed naked. Lee was laughing in his face and telling him what a fool he is, how would he think he had a chance, that kind of thing. Just a big joke, right?" Mac swallowed and looked away. Vain could hardly stand to hear any more; this was the kind of pointless, childish cruelty that made him want to kill things. Mac gave a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, a week later, Peebo shot himself. It wasn't a joke to him." 

"Jesus, Mac." Vain didn't know whether to cry or scream at the horrible story. "Why does anyone stay with them if they do shit like that?"

"Bunch of reasons." Mac sighed and shook his Nuka bottle, swirling the remaining cola inside. Bubbles rose from the bottom and popped gently on top of the viscous dark liquid. "Hunger. Fear. Pride. Revenge. They have this whole speech they give you about being the best, nobody else will ever be able to look down on you again, nobody hurts a Gunner without payback, Gunners are a family, all this sh... stuff. That's a pretty potent draw to someone who grew up scared, or who has enemies they can't shake, or whatever else. And there's a kind of person who will put up with being beat down if it means they get a chance to do the beating, you know? But it's a school for monsters, basically. If you don't act like that when you come in... you will by the time you've been in long enough." Mac glared out over the ruins of the city in front of him. "But it's all a lie, it's all bulls... crap. They don't mean it. I saw them sell other Gunners out, I saw them let people down and walk away. None of it was real. It's just another big con game to trick people into fighting for them."

"Makes sense." Vain said soberly. "Sounds like some of the cults I used to hear about before the war. Figures those tactics wouldn't die out since they work so well."

"Speaking of Gunners... so, my two favorite people, Winlock and Barnes." Mac's eyes flashed. "They've been hounding me for months and it's been driving off clients. No one wants to touch me once they learn I used to run with the Gunners." Embarrassment brought a flush across his cheeks. Vain wondered, not for the first time, how someone could kill people for money and still be so prone to blushing like a schoolgirl. "I figured if I could get enough caps together, maybe I could buy them out. That seems like a fool's errand, though; they'd probably just shoot me and keep the money. They have a small army of Gunners with them at all times. Unless..." Mac gave Vain a hopeful look. "Maybe you and I could pay them a little visit and put an end to them before they realize what's going on." Vain could feel his eyebrows climbing his forehead as Mac said "And before you get that look on your face, let me just say that I wouldn't even be asking if I didn't trust you." They both laughed.

"OK Mac... if you need me, I'm there."

"Wow... I don't know what to say." Mac swallowed heavily. "Truth is, I haven't been able to rely on anyone since I was a kid. Everyone I've met has either tried to rip me off or plant a knife in my back. But you, you're different. We see eye-to-eye on almost everything. And I have a funny feeling you actually care about what happens to me. That's why I asked for your help."

"'Almost' everything?" Vain knew he was pushing his luck, but he couldn't help but flirt a little. At Mac's surprised look, Vain raised an eyebrow and grinned knowingly. The blush was everything he could have wanted in the evening light; if Mac were any redder he'd glow. "I'm glad to help. And yeah, for the record, I do care." Mac looked like he was about to say something, but turned away to set up camp. As they were setting up mines along the fire escape, Mac spoke up.

"Sorry if I'm being too nosey but... is your name really Vain?" He looked over at the young man and smiled.

"Well, there's a story there. Seems like we tell a lot of stories, don't we?" Vain spread his bedroll down over one of the sleeping bags for double padding and sat down heavily. "So... before the War, I was a dumb kid who believed a story like you did with the Gunners." He looked over at Mac, who nodded. "Mine was from the government of the USA, not a gang, but it was the same stuff. My name when I went in was Charles Dougall, but nobody ever called me that except my teachers and my parents when they were mad. To everybody else I was Chaz. When I joined the Army, I thought it was going to be an adventure like the recruiting materials said. They put me through a bunch of tests and realized that I would make a good recon scout, so they sent me to school for that." Vain had a vivid flashback of the Field Training Academy, the smell of the halls and the sound of the constant drills. Wincing, he forced himself back to his story. "I got put with a squad of specialists in, I guess you'd call them... us... Covert Ops. Snipers, assassins, demolition specialists. We were Shadow Squad. Me, Zell, Ticktock, Snoopy and Smith. There were others, and other Covert squads, but we were the core of our squad. We lived together, trained together, ate together, practically took a shit together."

"OK... so you were in the Army. But I'm still wondering where Vain came from." Mac looked confused, and Vain knew he probably sounded like an old man telling stories to his grandkids.

"I'm getting to that. So... everyone in the squad had a nickname. To be called by your real name was, well, it showed people really didn't like you. We could all do a little of everything, but there were specialties. Ticktock was our demo guy, a real whiz kid at explosives. Snoopy was our hacker and cracker, he was the one who taught me how to pick locks. Smith was our spy."

"Wasn't Smith his real name?"

"Her. And no, her real name was Chandrasakha... sekha... I don't know, some long ass name from India. She was Smith because she was phenomenal at blending in, just being the bland one you never saw in the crowd. Zell and I were snipers. Zell's real name was Herman Zellenberger; he became Zell for obvious reasons. I was just Dougall for the first two months because... well... I wasn't too well liked." Vain realized these memories weren't very comfortable even two hundred and some years later. "We had an exercise where we were being taught to disable and reconfigure landmines while they were in place. It was dangerous, as you can imagine. I fucked up because I thought I knew what I was doing and didn't listen to Ticktock... I was an arrogant little shit back then. That's how I got this scar on my face." His finger traced the long grapevine scar along his jawline. "When I came back into the squad from the medical bay, I told Zell 'guess I've got this scar now' and his only response was 'you're so fucking vain'. Everybody laughed. And from then on, like it or not, Vain was my name."

"That's funny. But I guess you got along better with them after a while?"

"Yeah", Vain said softly. "Yeah I did. All the problems got ironed out after our first mission. Zell was my best friend after that, like the brother I never had. We all bonded and learned to work together as a team, which was good, because we got sent out to do a lot of ugly things. When you go through that kind of shit with someone, you have a bond with them you don't have with anyone else. I suspect you know what I mean from some of the stories you told." Mac nodded. "And I've wondered for the past few weeks if Zell wasn't your great grandfather or something, because you look exactly like him in a lot of ways." Vain felt weird saying that, weirder than he expected. It sounded sensible in his head but when it came out, yeah, not so much. 

"I..." Mac looked shocked and a little uncomfortable. "I don't know. I never knew my parents. When I was at Little Lamplight... well, kids just got dumped there. Nobody knew anything about anybody's parents, just the way things were." Mac looked down at his lap and his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his duster. "I guess it never really occurred to me that my parents had parents, and on back, you know? It's a... kind of a weird thought."

"Well, if he was, you could do a lot worse. He was a hell of a guy." Vain felt more tired than he expected. Digging through these old memories was exhausting. "What do you say we go to bed and head out early tomorrow to kill some assholes?"

Mac grinned like a little kid on Christmas morning. "Sounds like a plan to me, boss."


	3. The Magic of Mayhem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A visit into Mac's head as he gets what he always wanted, finds out it maybe wasn't as good as he thought it might be, and tries to figure out if what he didn't want might be what he wanted all along. Poor Mac, he's a complicated boy.

Mac woke up the same way he went to bed, confused. Years of sleeping in dodgy circumstances had trained him well; he came out of sleep like a switch being flipped, taking stock of his environment and the rifle right beside his hand in an instant. Environment is normal, he thought, then looked over at the source of his confusion. Part of it anyway. The blond hair poking out of the other bedroll, shining almost white in the first rays of the early morning sun. No nightmares last night, thankfully; Mac hated when Vain woke up screaming, and it seemed to happen at least once every five or six days. Who the hell was this guy, anyway? Mac sat up quietly and lit a cigarette with the embers of last night's campfire. The day's first drag was always the best, and cigs always seemed to help him think. With the smoke swirling from that first leisurely exhale, he tried to sort out what he was thinking.

So, Mac wondered, this mystery man. Vain. Wasn't the weirdest name he had ever heard, but that story last night about where it came from was almost as ridiculous as that yarn about the Vault and being frozen. So much about this guy was strange. For one thing, he didn't look like anyone else Mac had ever seen. That messy blond hair was a little cleaner than most, but common enough. The rest was seriously strange, though. That ridiculously handsome, almost beautiful face, like a statue with only the one scar, not to mention the strong, straight teeth, clear skin and trim, muscled body of someone who clearly had gotten plenty to eat his whole life... Mac knew nobody who looked like that, like one of the pictures from the old pre-War magazines come to life. Maybe this dude really was from the past, because Mac had never seen anyone else anywhere in the Commonwealth or Capital Wasteland that looked so smooth and polished. When he came easing into the back room of the Third Rail, Mac figured he was being set up by someone, but the punch seemed awfully delayed if that was so.

Vain's personality was weird, too. All these damn stories he told, like he just felt like sharing. He even had Mac telling stories back! Who did that? Mac had been all over the Commonwealth as a mercenary and as a caravan guard, and most people were only interested in their current task, running their own agenda, or struggling with their own demons. Not this one, though - Vain was interested in everyone and everything. Mac had seen kids with more self control. Vain would run into the middle of a pitched firefight to pick up crap lying in the road or rummage the pockets of one of the bodies. He didn't seem to have any more self-protection instinct than a mole rat. At the same time, he had an admirable talent of just being where the hurt wasn't; Mac didn't know if that whole 'Shadow squad' story held any water, but he had to admit Vain was one stealthy sumb... guy. For someone who could pick locks, crack terminals, and vanish into shadows like a ghost, the perennially fascinated magpie personality just didn't fit at all. It made Mac's head hurt.

He took the last deep drag left on his cigarette, then flicked the butt over the side of the building. OK, thought Mac sternly to himself, enough pussyfooting around, you know the real issue. As if everything else about Vain wasn't weird enough, the blond seemed to be flirting with him. Mac knew he wasn't the most attractive of guys; he was scrawny and the fact that he had grown up without a lot of food or care showed. He and Lucy had settled down together, and he never doubted that she loved him more than she loved herself, but even she never made out like he was all that good looking. He brought home food and caps, she raised crops and cooked, and then sometimes at night when they weren't too tired... Mac shifted around, suddenly aware that his memories were making his ratty jeans uncomfortably tight in some areas. He loved her, hell, would have done anything for her. She was the only person he had ever really fallen for, that he had let in. Since Mac came north, he had watched the people around him all hooking up, falling in and falling out of romances at the drop of a hat. How stupid could you be? Letting anyone in like that was like sitting naked in the rain; not only was it immediately uncomfortable, but it would probably bring suffering in the future too. Part of the reason he told the story of poor Peebo was to let Vain know he wasn't going to be tricked that easily, but instead of acting guilty, Vain acted disturbed and sad. It wasn't even like he had known Peebo! Mac's head hurt worse.

Despite Lucy having been his only sexual experience, he wasn't disgusted by the fact Vain was a man. If Mac was being honest with himself, he had always liked the look of other dudes as much as he did women, in theory anyway. Some of them looked good, hard round asses and muscled shoulders and arms. Besides, Mac snorted, Vain was hot enough to have anyone he wanted, man or woman. In Mac's early days in the Commonwealth he had sometimes wondered what it would be like to fool around with a guy, just to see what made it different and what was the same. There was just never a time when opportunity and inclination matched up. After the whole Gunner thing went down with those two freaks, though, the thought of being touched by anyone at all was pretty unpleasant, especially if it was another man. Just thinking of that made the memories come pouring back - the tearing pain in his ass, the casual punches to his head and neck if he made any noise, the way Winlock and Barnes kissed and made out over top of him like he was some sort of toy or thing to be used... his jaw clenched against the bile that boiled up in his throat. If Vain kept his promise, Mac thought, maybe I should let him do whatever he wants at least once. It would be worth it to see those two dead.

Mac didn't realize how lost he was in his thoughts until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Whipping around and pulling up his rifle, he saw Vain step back, hands raised to calm him. "Sorry... sorry..." Vain said sheepishly. "I thought you heard me get up."

Mac felt like an idiot. "Sh... crap, you scared the fu... scared me half to death." He started to glare, then laughed a little at himself. Some bodyguard you are, he thought disgustedly. If that had been a raider, you'd have been in the air with a hook up your ass before you even noticed. He cleared his throat. "So... what's on your mind for the day?" Mac knew what he wanted to hear, but it was a lot to ask of someone, especially someone who was practically a stranger. Better to give him a chance to bow out gracefully.

He was shocked to see Vain's quizzical look, and hear him say "I thought we made our plans last night. Where are these two soon-to-be-corpses, and how do we get from here to there? Or did you change your mind?"

"N-no," Mac stuttered quickly. "I, that's, yeah, great." Vain looked at him a little oddly, but Mac quickly described the Gunner encampment at the Mass Pike Interchange. It had been months since he was there, but he found the bad memories of the place didn't seem as strong when he thought of it purely as a tactical challenge. Vain was attentive and asked good questions, only balking at being told that there was more than likely at least one Assaultron present.

"So, wait," Vain muttered, "a real Assaultron? Where the hell did they get that? Laser or missile?"

"Laser," Mac confirmed. "Gunners got started as some sort of Army goons; they have stashes of weird weapons, and Assaultrons are part of that."

"Can it stealth itself?" Mac hoped Vain wasn't starting to have second thoughts. He wondered if he should have mentioned the Assaultron at all, but realized that it was no fair to either of them to omit something that big. If he backed out, better it happened before they went halfway across the Commonwealth.

"No, not that I ever saw."

"OK, good, so it's not one of the late-model Dominators. I'm trying to remember... Smith had a trick for those early models, let me think about it."

"Boss, if you'd rather not go, I understand, I..." Mac was always ready for disappointment.

"Not go? Fuck that, Mac. I promised you I would help you and I will. I just need to remember this little bit of trivia right now. Let's get this shit packed up and head out; we've got quite a hike ahead of us." Mac looked directly into Vain's eyes and saw only clear determination. Well damn, he thought, completely forgetting to self-censor, I guess he really did mean it. Maybe he really does give a crap about me. But how the hell do I pay back a favor like this?

= 

Mac was amazed. They went through the ground sentries at Mass Pike like a knife through cold Cram. Some guy Mac vaguely recognized had been sitting at the lift with a dumb look on his face, didn't even have the sense to push the button to raise it while Mac shot one of the other guards and then him. Vain rose up behind the other one with a knife like the angel of death. Out of nowhere! Mac couldn't believe how stealthy the other man could be.

Mac leaned over and hissed, "So I guess we take the lift. Watch out for the Assaultron." Vain shook his head and motioned for Mac to follow him. Mac was confused, but played along.

They got out to the middle of a patch of scrub. Where they were sitting in the moonlight, they were probably invisible to anyone above. The Gunners on the elevated road, though were backlit by the fires they had burning all along the perimeter. Mac had never really thought about how stupid that was, but now it became painfully obvious what Vain had in mind. As if reading Mac's mind, he felt the blond lean over to him and hot breath on his ear as Vain muttered "You were right, these Gunners really are fucking idiots. Look at them sitting up there on that Christmas tree. Let's wake them up." He watched Vain raise his sniper rifle, and Mac crept a few feet away and did the same. Two shots rang out and two bodies fell at the same time. At the sound of the gunfire, the camp boiled like a disturbed ants nest.

Mac didn't know whether Winlock and Barnes had convinced the others that they would never be attacked at the overpass, or whether everyone happened to be drunk on this particular night, but what followed was the biggest shitshow it had ever been his privilege to watch. He and Vain circled the vast concrete overpass and picked off people as and when they could, usually when they ran past an open space waving a weapon they clearly couldn't use at that range. A vague muttering was all that could be heard of the Assaultron as it stalked back and forth, looking in vain for an enemy to engage. As it went past an open space, Mac heard Vain say "Oh, holy shit, I remember now. Let me see if this scope will let me..." Mac was still and watched as Vain sank into a proper sniper trance. He knew that focus well from his own shooting, but he also knew better than to do anything to interrupt. As the Assaultron whipped past the opening again, a single shot rang out. Mac watched in amazement as the Assaultron stopped, whirled around a few times, and fired its head laser back into the bridge. The result was a massive explosion as one of the fusion engines from a car exploded. The Assaultron was blown off the bridge and out into the field. Mac ran out to meet it after calculating the trajectory in his head, but there was nothing left but sparking scrap by the time it hit and bounced to a stop. Vain stepped up behind him and whispered "And now, let's take the lift."

By the time the two of them reached the top, Mac knew they were going to pull it off. If there had been anyone left alive with two brain cells to rub together, they would have been firing into the lift as it went up. As it was, all seemed quiet at the top. Vain ghosted out of the lift as soon as it touched concrete, vanishing almost immediately into the shadows. Mac was beginning to think that instead of the Army training the other man claimed, maybe he was a synth built around a Stealth Boy. Nobody should be able to vanish like that. Looking around, he was overwhelmed by memories. This was the place where the worst days of his life were spent; even seeing it as a conqueror was unpleasant. He slid around the corner and looked over to the corner where Barnes used to tinker on a suit of power armor, and saw the slumped body half in, half out of the chassis. A mangled piece of car fender protruded from his back, a gift from the Assaultron explosion. He shot the corpse once in the back just to make himself feel better, and moved around to the little cubbyhole house where Barnes and Winlock had lived. Winlock was slumped against the wall, scrabbling to get a stim out of his cargo pants and holding one hand over his side. Mac waited until the older man got the stim out and then shot it out of his hand. The older man looked up and laughed wetly.

"Well, if it ain't my old friend RJ MacCready. If I'd known you were coming, I'd have baked a cake, kid." Winlock wheezed and cursed, then spat blood out onto the concrete pavement. Mac felt himself shaking but was powerless to stop it. The sound of Winlock calling him 'kid' again was like a knife in his brain.

"Just saw your girlfriend Barnes." Mac shook his head and snickered. "Seemed pretty dead. Sorry for your loss." He took a deep breath, trying to calm the shakes. "Guess you're next."

Winlock grinned up at him with bloody teeth. "Well, get on with it then." They watched each other for a minute. "What, can't even pull the trigger? You always were a pussy, kid." He coughed, retched, and blood came out of his mouth and side at the same time. "Weren't even a good fuck."

Everything went white. Mac realized he didn't want to shoot the other man, because that wasn't enough. He started slamming his rifle butt into Winlock's head, over and over. When Mac came out of his fury, Winlock's face was a bloody pulp in front of him. Mac realized two things: he was crying, and Vain was standing nearby watching him like he was a skittish animal that might bolt at any minute. After a minute of them standing there, watching each other wordlessly, Vain nodded and just said "What can I do?" Mac motioned to him so Vain would come help. Together, they lifted Winlock's battered body onto the cot in the little house, then hauled Barnes in and piled him on top in a parody of a lover's embrace. As Vain stepped back to the entrance, Mac tapped him on the arm. Mac pointed at a line of dirty bloodstains on the bare plywood wall. "That's their scoreboard." Vain's face was a study in fascinated horror. The young sniper pointed to one particular stain, two in from the end nearest the bed. "That was me." Mac couldn't look at Vain; he didn't want to see the other man's face when his words sunk in. "That's all I ever meant to the Gunners. A stain on a wall." Mac looked at the corpses piled on the bed. "I ought to shove a steel rod up each of their asses to complete the picture" he said in a flat voice. He took a full gas can that had been sitting in Barnes' repair shop and sloshed fuel all over the bed and the corpses on it. Vain walked outside, looking at Mac with what he preferred to think was pity and not disgust. Mac lit a cigarette with his lighter before the fumes got too thick, took a long drag on it, and threw it onto the bed. The bed went up with a loud whoosh, and Mac stood there for a few minutes in the heat, watching the corpses burn, and laughed a little. This was supposed to feel good, Mac thought, but instead it was just empty. He could feel the salt from his tears cracking on his cheeks, and something else in his heart was cracking as well. This was really the end of this chapter. Now what? 

He finally went outside, where Vain was sitting calmly at the table sipping from a can of purified water like nothing was happening at all. A thick black plume of oily smoke was rolling out of the house behind him; Vain toasted him with the can, lifted his eyebrows a bit, and took another sip. Mac couldn't figure him out at all. He was horrified by things that seemed normal to Mac, but other things that should have produced a reaction didn't bother him in the slightest. He knew how crazy he looked right now; if Mac had been somewhere near himself, he would have run for the hills. He was under no illusions just how messed up his actions were, and he knew he would probably feel bad later, as opposed to this burning numbness. But Vain just sat there, sipping his water like he was at a tea party. When the blond looked up and saw Mac just staring at him, he said in a low voice "You'll be OK."

Mac didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I don't feel OK. I don't know what I feel right now, but OK is definitely not it." Looking around at the bodies of the Gunners, the burning shack, the wreckage in all directions, he shook his head and slumped into one of the other chairs at the table.

"I said you'd be OK, not that you were OK now." Vain leaned forward and Mac couldn't help but look at his eyes. They were earnest, like this was the most important thing that had been said all night. Hell, Mac thought, maybe it is. Vain continued, "You're a good man, MacCready, even though you don't feel like one right now. That's why this hurts so much. You came here looking for something you were never going to find." Vain reached his hand out and tried to pat Mac's hand where it rested on the table, but the younger man flinched away and jerked his hand back into his lap. Vain sighed and leaned back. "People like us always want to know why these things happen, like there's a reason. We want to understand. But there's nothing to understand. People like that don't have a reason. They can't apologize, they can't explain. Wouldn't even occur to them to try." Vain pushed his hands through his hair, then slumped backwards. "They just do shit because they can."

Mac felt like a bomb had gone off somewhere inside. "I didn't... think I wanted that, but... yeah. Maybe you're right. How do you do something like that and not even care?"

"Because some people are only human on the outside. Inside, they are just rabid dogs." Vain's voice was harder than Mac had ever heard it, and those soft blue eyes that could sparkle like a kid's were as flat as deadly as a glass knife. Suddenly it wasn't so hard to believe that this man had been in wars before and seen the things he said he had. "And like rabid dogs, you have to put them down."

"Well..." Mac looked around. "For the Gunners, it's always about the bottom line. They just lost this entire waystation, and that's gonna cost them big. Besides, they have no way of knowing I was involved." Vain just grinned and waved a lazy thumb at the shack behind him, now burning merrily and sending up a giant plume of smoke. Mac could feel himself flushing and said "It didn't have to be me that did that, a lot of people were mad at... OK, I guess I see your point." He snickered in spite of himself. "Anyway, I guess I owe you a favor now. After all, you hired me but I'm the one that dragged you out here." Vain protested but Mac continued "I like everything to remain nice and even, and you're one up on me. I don't... this is the most someone else has done for me, probably ever. And I appreciate it."

"Mac," Vain said, "don't worry about it. You needed the help, and I was in a position to offer it. We're good." He slapped Mac on the shoulder companionably. "It's what friends do, right?" Mac let himself be touched because he wasn't sure how he felt about anything right now. Part of him wanted to run, maybe get drunk, and just hide from everything that had happened today. Even though it was what he wanted for months, wanted more than anything, getting it was more than he had ever counted on. Another part of him felt obligated to Vain, and that was a feeling he hated. He didn't think he wanted to get physical with Vain (oh really? said a treacherous part of him he hadn't even known was there, are you sure? and suddenly he wasn't sure at all) but he especially wasn't sure he would be able to, even if he did want it. Either way, though, a sense of obligation was the quickest way to kill any legitimate interest. He had to find a way to balance the books.

=

After looting the place thoroughly, they went back down on the lift. Vain suggested that they stop in at the new settlement at the Sunshine Tidings Co-Op, and Mac agreed. They spent the night there, checked in with the settlers, and then wandered back towards Diamond City. Every time Vain looked at him, Mac could feel an internal sense of tension. He knew the other man was interested, Vain had said as much directly, and his flirting was getting more common. He didn't think that Vain was the sort to try to force or coerce him into anything, so he wasn't worried about that; if he was going to do that, or use that sense of obligation, he would have done it by now. As they were walking, Mac had an idea. 

When they made camp that night in yet another abandoned house, once they had settled in Mac pulled out the bag of caps that Vain had given him in the Third Rail, what felt like ages ago. Luckily, he hadn't been near Daisy to give them to her for transport to the farm back home. "Boss, I meant it when I said how much I appreciate you helping me with my Gunner problem." As Vain protested, Mac ignored him and talked over him, saying, "Tell you what, I'm going to give you back the caps you paid me in Goodneighbor." Vain looked shocked and... hurt? Mac realized that this sounded like a resignation, and hurried to correct the false impression. "I'll still stick with you, because that was part of the original deal. But now we're even."

"Mac, you don't have to..." Vain held the bag of caps in his hand, weighing it.

"Yes, I do." Mac interrupted. "I very much have to do this. It's... it's the right thing to do." He hated trying to explain these complicated emotions in words. It always seemed straightforward in his head, but the more he talked, the more confusing it sounded and the more knotted up he got trying to explain.

"Look," Vain said in a soft voice. Mac had only heard this soft voice a few times, but he hated it right now more than anything, because it reminded him too much of Lucy. It would be so easy to let that soft voice talk him into all sorts of bad ideas. "I'll take back the caps if you feel that strongly about it. But I meant it, Mac, I want to help you. I'm happy to help you, however I can. I... honestly, I like you as more than a friend, like I said before." Mac looked down and tensed; so this was it, then. "I like helping people I care about, and I was hoping that you were starting to care about me." Well crap, Mac thought. I guess I was mistaken.

"So you helped me so I would have sex with you?" Mac looked back up, eyes full of resignation. He pulled off his hat and started to shrug out of his coat, saying "Well, I guess it was worth it to get rid of those two. Sorry the caps weren't enough." Mac had really hoped it wouldn't come down to this. His flesh was already crawling at the thought of what was coming, but he'd get through it somehow.

"What the... NO!" Vain shouted, sounding furious. Mac looked up, shocked, and saw the blond standing in the middle of the floor, face livid, eyes radiating anger and hurt. "How fucking dare you say such a thing? Have I done anything to make you think that I would take advantage of you like that?"

"I... " Mac was taken aback and suddenly very ashamed. He didn't really know why he had made that assumption. "I'm sorry, I just figured..."

Vain blew his breath out in a huge huff, and slowly sat back down. "I'm sorry too. Jesus. I know that was probably a logical assumption for the... well, in light of what you've told me about your history. But Mac," he stared earnestly at Mac, almost compelling him to meet his eyes, "please believe me when I tell you, I only want what you are willing to give. Ever. I don't ever want to pressure you, and I sure as hell don't ever expect you to sleep with me in exchange for favors. That's not... how I do things. Ever." He giggled. "And that's a lot of evers."

Mac smiled at the attempt to defuse the tension in the room. "Boss... Vain..." the other man startled at the sound of his name, "I know you're interested, and I'm really flattered. That's not to say I understand it... I know I'm not the most attractive man in the Commonwealth," and he held up a hand to cut off the protests Vain very transparently wanted to give, "and... OK, look. I will be as honest as I can." He took a deep breath. God this was painful and awkward to talk about with anyone, even if you weren't nine kinds of messed up. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't think you were fu... fr... fucking hot. Yeah, I said it. You're fucking hot, and I know it, and I see it because I'm not blind. I'd also be lying if I said I wasn't seriously messed up. Look," he held up his hand, which was trembling badly, "I'm shaking just talking about this. But here goes. The short, sad history of RJ MacCready's sex life. I had a wife, Lucy, and she's the only one I ever... did things with. You know, consensually. Then... Four years ago, she just... she died." Mac felt tears forming in his eyes, but he pressed on. "She got torn apart by ferals right in front of me. And then, what I went through with Winlock and Barnes... I don't know if I can even..." He was gasping for breath. It felt like something had a giant hand wrapped around his chest and was just squeezing him until he couldn't get any air. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing, and the feeling slowly subsided. When he opened his eyes, he saw Vain watching him with... were those tears? Mac pressed on, "Full honesty, right? If I let myself, I could probably fall for you. You're everything I could ever want. You're hot as fuck, you're clearly rich, you're unbelievably good-hearted, to the point where you pick up broken strays like me. But it's a bad idea. I can't promise that I can be... could ever be... uh... intimate with you, and that's not fair to you. Or to me, because I'd get frustrated pretty fast looking at that body of yours and not touching it." Mac laughed, and in spite of himself Vain laughed too.

Vain wiped his face and looked away, then forced his gaze back to Mac. "OK, is it my turn?" Mac grinned and took a deep breath, then nodded. He still felt tension around his chest, but it felt good to have gotten that all out. "Good. So. Full honesty, as you said. In order. You are fucking hot as well, and I don't want to hear otherwise." Mac snorted, but he guessed there was no accounting for tastes. "Now, in terms of sex lives, I slept around some in high school, a couple of girls though there was one guy at a party. I had a wife too, we covered that. We were best friends in love for most of our marriage, and I was a lucky bastard to get as much time with her as I did. I told her almost everything. The only thing she never knew was that I spent half my military service sleeping with my bunkmate Zell." Mac felt that go through him like a bolt of lightning. Now it made sense - the guy who apparently looked like him was Vain's... oh god. When he looked up, Vain was watching him closely and clearly reading his face. "No, it's not what you think. I won't lie, I hired you at first because you looked like him. I was attracted to you because I was attracted to him, but you're my type, right? A lot of the guys I find attractive are built like you. What Nora and I had was really good in a lot of ways, but the sex was never like the sex I had with Zell. It was... hard to admit that, even to myself. After Shaun was born, we didn't always see eye to eye. Nora and I were trying to patch things up, but then the bombs fell, and then she was killed. I never even got to say goodbye. And I was depressed for a long time, until I walked into a bar in Goodneighbor and saw someone who reminded me intensely of someone else I had been close to." Mac felt a complicated ball of emotions he didn't even know how to express. A little sad, a little envious, a little jealous, a little surprised, a little... what? Aroused? Shit. "But as I've gotten to know you, I know you aren't Zell, you're Mac. And I like Mac as he is. I like your sense of humor, I like your sense of honesty," Mac snorted loudly at that, "don't give me that shit, you ARE honest, in your own way. You wouldn't have given me those caps back otherwise."

"I think the word you're looking for is honor", Mac said. "And yeah, it's important to be to be honorable."

"Honorable, exactly! The ideal word. I admire your sense of honor. That's not something that was common even back before the war, let alone now. And I feel privileged to know you, RJ MacCready." Mac suddenly realized that he was in serious trouble. He had started this conversation convinced that he wasn't interested in this man and somewhere along the line... well, shit. "I know that what happened to you left scars, Mac. I know what that's like. I haven't had experiences like yours, but that doesn't mean I don't have scars of my own. There's a reason I was able to sit with you and chat during your recent, hmm, experience, let's call it, without reacting. That's far from the worst place I've been, or the worst thing I've done. I told you what I did in the Army; we saw horrible things... did horrible things. It's why I have those dreams." Mac realized that was the problem. He knew that Vain really did understand, and he felt it on a visceral level. He would know if the other man was just lying about it, but Vain had been there. "I think with time you can get through what you experienced. If you have someone who cares enough to come along with you on the journey." Vain held out his hand. "And I care. Can I come along?"

Mac sat there and looked at the outstretched hand for almost a minute. Vain looked a little worried, and that was sweet, but they both knew there was only one way this could go. Mac knew this was probably a really bad idea. He knew this would probably end in tears or worse. He knew. Nothing ever went right for RJ MacCready, at least not for very long. He knew. But he also knew before he even stretched out his hand and took Vain's in his own that he was going to do so. And the look on Vain's face was like a sunrise.


	4. Curses, Causes and a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people will go to any length to get what they want, even if that means risking life and limb.

Vain had no idea when he held his hand out whether it would be taken or not. He felt like this was the knife edge of something, and he was balanced on that edge... maybe this way, maybe that way, maybe he would fall and be sliced open and die. For someone he had previously thought was easy to read, Mac had been impossible to interpret since they had taken out the Gunners. Vain knew what it felt like to do things like that on orders, but he didn't know what it felt like to do them at the command of your own inner demons, so he was doing what his father used to call "dancing as fast as he could", just playing it by ear and hoping he was doing the right thing. He knew that Mac had been through something terrible; hell, it seemed like everyone in this new world he had crawled out into had been through something terrible, often multiple things. He didn't realize quite how terrible, though, until he looked across the bridge at the young sniper standing in front of the man who had hurt him and seen the expression on his face. It was the same expression he had seen on the face of a Chinese woman when she came back into her village during the war and realized that she was the only one left alive... equal parts agony and confusion, a nonverbal scream of pain and 'why me'. The look on Mac's face as he looked at Vain's offered hand days later wasn't much better - the young man's eyes were flat, his face was tight, and that expression could mean anything from desire to rejection. When Mac's hand tentatively rose and then clasped his, Vain could have shouted with joy.

Within a few days, however, Vain's joy had faded into frustration. Any thought that the handclasp might have meant a loosening of MacCready's boundaries was quickly proven premature. As soon as they arrived in Hangman's Alley, the settlers warned them of a pack of raiders that had set up shop in the old Back Street Apparel building. Vain had no idea what made the building so appealing to them; he had cleared out nests of raiders several times, but they just kept coming back, like there was something special about the place. He and Mac took them out easily, but it made him feel the futility of some of his actions deeply. What was the point of clearing it out if more would come every few weeks? Where did they even come from, these raiders? There seemed to be a neverending supply of them. Vain imagined the mythical Institute, grinding out raiders by the dozen and sending them out to flood the Commonwealth with dangerous drug-addled thugs. Silly when he you put it that way, sure, he wondered, but where did they come from, anyway? They never seemed to slow their push against the last bastions of civilization, but there couldn't be that many runaway kids and scavvers out there. He never heard stories of whole settlements going rogue and turning into raiders. Vain let the settlers know the problem was resolved, and they were grateful, as they always were. He and Mac barely spoke for the next two days because as always in the tiny settlement, there was no chance of anything approaching privacy, since everyone was pretty much on top of each other day and night. When they headed out on a long recon swing towards Goodneighbor, Vain breathed a sigh of relief, but Mac's face was still a locked box.

Perhaps worst of all, all of the ease that he and Mac had previously had when camping and moving around together was gone. When they had to fight, first clearing out the raiders in the clothing store and then against a pack of ghouls and a team of super mutants, they fought together just as well as ever. As soon as the fight was done, though, even before the looting began, Mac was back to acting stiff and awkward. He seemed constantly on edge, almost as though he expected Vain to attack him. Any attempt at conversation was stilted and strange, and if Vain got close enough to touch him, Mac would immediately back away and go elsewhere on some excuse. For the love of god, Vain thought more than once, does he expect me to just throw him down and ravish him if I get within five feet? Then he would feel bad, realizing that probably was the expectation at some level, Vain would resolve to be more understanding, and the cycle would begin again. Vain felt Mac's eyes on him whenever he wasn't looking; as soon as he glanced over, the other man would immediately shift so that he was staring off into the distance, or scanning the surroundings. The tension was getting ridiculous, like a storm following them around. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen a smile or sneer on Mac's face, anything but those lips pressed into a bloodless line that looked out of place on such a usually expressive face.

Vain fiddled with his radio, figuring that some music would be a welcome distraction from Mac's constant brooding, but was surprised to see a new channel listed on a frequency that had been empty minutes ago. What the hell? "Help! Or... Mayday! Or... whatever it is one says on a radio." Seriously? He wondered, shaking his head. He listened to the clearly irate, clearly pretentious man complaining about being held hostage at the very top of Trinity Tower, the new monstrosity that had been built just before the war just off Trinity Plaza. As this Rex Goodman (what a name, too, Vain snorted to himself) got off the radio, he knew he should probably feel inspired to help the poor bastard, but... 

"You know that's got to be a trap, right?" Mac's voice was loud, and Vain was shocked to hear him speak up - these were the first words he had volunteered in ages. As he looked over at the sniper, the younger man blushed and looked away, mumbling. Interesting.

"Yeah, almost definitely." The more Vain thought about it, though, the greater the chances that the Tower hadn't been looted yet. The amount of valuable scrap and salvage that was probably in there would build a lot of useful items.... hmm. "Wouldn't be the first time we've wasted some greenies for a reward, though..."

"Boss!" Mac actually sounded like himself again; this was fascinating. "The last time we went up against mutants you almost died! Remember me having to put you back together? That was only 4 of them! Who knows how many are in that fu... that travesty of a building." Mac was looking directly at Vain for once, blue eyes wide and direct. The young sniper's mouth was concerned, a little twisted up even, but not the lipless gash it had been. Vain was overwhelmed suddenly with the urge to grab the other man and kiss him right there. Down boy, he thought.

Unfortunately, Vain remembered that previous adventure all too well. He wasn't keen at all to go up against the big green bastards, but if concern for his safety was the key to getting Mac to talk, maybe a little danger was called for. "Let's just take a look. If it's too gruesome, we can always leave." And who knew, maybe Rex Goodman was a real person after all, at least Vain couldn't imagine a raider or a supermutant with that elegant speech pattern.

"Boss, I can't believe you would..." Mac apparently realized that he had opened up without meaning to; as his face folded up and eyes became more guarded, Vain thought it was like watching the gates of Diamond City come down with a crash. "OK. You lead, I follow." Flat and inflectionless. Vain made up his mind to put on a show if he could. Anything to get past those walls again, even for a while. If it involved him being wounded, so be it.

"Right", he grinned, pretending to be enthused. "Let's check it out." Mac just stared stubbornly at the ground. "Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?" Silence was the only response.

The lobby of the Tower wasn't too bad, just a hound and a few mutants stomping around. They fell very quickly to the rifles of Mac and Vain, with very little challenge. Meat bags hung everywhere threw off a horrible stench, the worst part of dealing with mutants. Just the smell of a mutant hive was enough to knock out most people; Vain always wished he had remembered to loot a gas mask. Suddenly, the speakers in the building began broadcasting the ranting of the supermutant leader, some long rambling speech about the superiority of super mutants. Was everything in the new world crazy? Vain laughed in spite of himself at the ridiculousness of the situation, though Mac didn't look very amused at all. This sounded like some of the old Silver Shroud shit he grew up with on the radio, the monologue of the villain when he had the hero trapped. He got a mental image of a giant supermutant twirling a long oiled mustache and cackling maniacally, and laughter practically paralyzed him for a moment. Mac shook his head and stared at him like he thought that his employer had finally given up the last of his sanity.

Sure enough, when they took the elevators to the next level, they emerged into a secondary reception area where there was an ambush waiting. The two gunmen darted into a nearby closet and were able to snipe the mutants as they ran into view with little trouble. One tried to sneak along a railing and get a clear shot into the doorway, but a single high-pitched bark from Mac's rifle ended that little foray with a large green corpse falling heavily into the reception area. Vain's whispered "Damn, good shot!" got only a snort in response. As expected the Tower was full of valuable loot. Desk fans, circuitry, electronic boards and all sorts of other items were everywhere. It was obvious that nobody had made much of an effort to pick through the area since the war, though everything was tossed around and filthy from the mutants roaming through the building. The smell of rotting meat and dust was everywhere.

Mac maintained a stubborn silence as they climbed higher, not even speaking up with his usual complaints when given some of the haul of typewriters and telephones to carry. The upper levels of the building were frankly terrifying. Many of the walls were missing, leaving the increasingly open rooms exposed to the howling wind whipping through the frame of the skyscraper. At this height, anything (or anyone) that fell would end up looking worse than the contents of a meat bag, Vain thought sourly. No stimpak in the world was going to heal that. He and Mac crept through the ruins, taking out mutants from range where possible, sneaking around to shoot others and scavenging as they went. Actually, Vain scavenged while Mac spent all his time looking more and more irritated with the risks that Vain was taking. The blond took every opportunity of making a spectacle of himself - taunting the mutants, running across rooms to dive out of sight, stepping out into the middle of the floor to line up shots, and each time he did something outrageous Mac would flinch and glare. Vain wasn't sure if he was going to get himself shot first by a mutant or by Mac, but even a mad Mac was better than the surly, uncommunicative bastard he had spent the better part of a week with thus far. Also interesting was that, despite several rooms full of radio equipment, there didn't seem to be any sign of Rex or the mysterious ranting leader of the mutants.

At the top of the tower, an empty small room had been converted into some sort of entryway, with a low wall made of metal and a ramp leading upward to a small platform. A door was visible at the top, some sort of last office or penthouse, presumably where the leader, Rex (if he existed), and who knows how many others were all laying in wait. There was also a huge bubbling cauldron full of mutant swill, the stench of it noticeable even in the cold, whipping wind. Vain glanced over at Mac and pointed upwards with a cocked eyebrow, but the younger man refused to make eye contact or even acknowledge the gesture. Nettled, Vain stepped out into the open and looked upwards. As he did, he accidentally kicked a scrap of metal, sending it scraping across the floor. That noise was enough to open the gates of hell. The first indication that Vain saw indicating that things were going completely pear-shaped was the barrel of an enormous minigun emerging from the door at the top, followed immediately by the crazed cackle of the mutant leader's laughter. He dove behind the low wall as the huge gun spun up, and immediately bullets began chewing holes through the metal. "Die, little bleeder!" Vain wasn't sure what to do at this point; if he exposed even an inch of flesh, it would immediately be shredded by the minigun. Waiting wasn't an option; by the time the gun overheated, the wall would be gone and so would he. "Coward!" came the scream of the mutant leader, "Come let Fist..." A shot rang out, and the minigun stopped firing. Vain was floored. What the hell was going on? He risked a peek around the corner, ready to die, and saw the largest supermutant he had ever seen lying with a hole where one eye had been, the back of his head in ruins, lying in a pile on top of a huge bladed minigun.

Mac came racing around the corner at top speed, grabbing onto Vain and examining him for wounds. All the earlier stoicism and surliness was gone, he seemed almost panic-stricken. "Are you, oh god, are you shot, are you hurt, did..." Vain couldn't have stopped himself for anything; he wrapped his arms around Mac and kissed him before he even knew what he was doing. Mac tried to keep talking for a second until he froze. Vain realized what he had done, but he was committed now, and Mac's lips were cold and a little chapped against his. Just the feeling of Mac's body pressed against his made his stomach feel a knot of tension and desire start to coil inside. All awareness of the whipping icy wind dropped away; a flush of heat raced through him. Mac made a little "mmf" sound in shock, and started to pull back, but then froze. Slowly, his arms came up and his hands rested on Vain's chest, but instead of pushing him away, he leaned into the kiss, lips moving softly, warm breath sighing out across Vain's mouth. Vain's hand went up, slipped in under the ridiculous sniper hat, and caught in Mac's hair as his tongue slid across the younger man's lower lip. He tasted like cigarettes and Nuka Cola and fire, and Vain's pulse was pounding as he tilted his head and pressed his lips even more firmly to Mac's. The younger man's breathing increased and he groaned softly, pressing forward against Vain's body before suddenly tensing and pulling back. Vain let him go, realizing he had pushed his luck enough for one day. He expected some sort of negative reaction, was braced for it, but Mac just stood there looking stunned for a moment before saying "... oh." and then giving a low chuckle that made Vain's groin throb. Vain realized two things simultaneously, looking Mac up and down and watching as the once-over was noticed and apparently appreciated; first, he had clearly been misreading Mac's signals, which was a thought for another time, and second, if what he could see in Mac's jeans was all Mac, he was going to have to learn some new skills, or at least upgrade the ones he had. Guess I found another place Mac differs from Zell, Vain snorted mentally. There was a very large bulge indeed trailing down one leg of those dirty ripped jeans, and his mouth grew dry at the thought of what that could mean for later.


	5. When the Dam Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These boys are moving on from their first kiss, and Mac's confusion gets alleviated (and some of his other issues get resolved too, with Vain lending a hand)

Mac didn't think he was ever going to figure Vain out. They had shared that close moment together where he took the other man's hand, figuring that it was a bad idea but not knowing what else to do. That night, he realized he wasn't going to be able to run from his desires forever, especially when the object of those desires was chasing him with such determination. So he took a chance. He was worried about his reaction to anything physical, but after that initial heartfelt confession in the abandoned house, he thought maybe it was worth working on. Instead of even trying to touch or be touched, though, it had been five days of being watched like he was a toddler left alone near a fire, like Mac was suddenly no longer the dangerous sniper and merc he had been, but was instead something fragile that needed careful coddling. That was bullsh... crap. As if that weren't enough, the most annoying (and sexy, his subconscious supplied completely unhelpfully) person Mac had ever met spent the entire afternoon trying to get killed by supermutants for no good reason, and then celebrated almost dying by suddenly kissing him. What the...

His thoughts were interrupted by the unmistakeable voice of a supermutant. "Rex, Strong see Fist get shot. Fist dead now because head gone. Man who shot Fist almost got eaten by other man with him, but fought him off." 

What the hell... more mutants? And since when do they make conversation instead of attacking? With a quick, amused glance at Vain, who was still standing there looking flustered and horny, Mac wandered up the ramp and into the small chamber at the top. Vain eased in behind him, clearly expecting some threat. Both men were floored to see the cage in front of them with a very dapper old gentleman in a suit, clearly the assh... idiot from Vain's Pip-Boy radio, and a supermutant in the standard kilt of fabric scraps.

"Hail and well met, noble rescuers! I, Rex Goodman, greet you from the depths of my heart!" The old man seemed to think he was in some sort of performance; Mac couldn't decide if he was crazy or just putting on an act. Before he could even respond, the mutant spoke up.

"Strong admire small man, first he kill Fist and now small man stand beside other one who tried to eat him with no fear! Small man small but mighty! Strong suspect man has much milk of kindness, hope he share with Strong." Vain looked at Mac and snickered, but suddenly seemed to see something inside the cage that inspired him to pick the lock. Mac craned his head to see what was inside, but realized with disgust it was more pre-war antique toys and crap. While Vain worked at the lock, he kept up a steady stream of conversation with the old man about something called Shakespeare and bards and milk and a bunch of other stuff. Mac's head was starting to hurt again.

After the third reference to Mac being almost eaten, Rex finally turned to the lumbering mutant and demanded "Strong, what on earth do you mean that Mr. Vain here tried to eat his companion? That is utter nonsense! I've told you before that humans don't go around eating each other! We are not like Fist and the rest of your brothers, and although the Bard famously says, 'He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all of my substance into that fat belly of his' he does not mean the eating of a man's own literal flesh, but rather..." Mac thought listening to the old man was like listening to a generator run. It was a constant, loud noise, but none of it meant anything. He suspected that Strong wasn't familiar with the idea of kissing, and he certainly wasn't going to bring the subject up. Mac was determined not to think about that kiss until they were out of here. Even thinking the word 'kiss' was enough to bring back a warmth in his chest and a ghostly tingling in his lips, but he forced it from his mind immediately. A quick glance at Vain showed the other man looking down and refusing to meet anyone's eyes, but the smirk on his face said volumes.

The escape from the tower was nightmarish. First they had to take a lift down past other floors which were (of course) full of even more supermutants, then change lifts and go down again. No matter how many greenies they killed, more seemed to come out of nowhere. At least Vain wasn't finding any more useless crap to load on Mac like a pack mule, he thought grimly. Mac had had about enough of that for a lifetime, whether or not he was being... the k-word. Mac snorted at his own silliness, earning a questioning look from both Vain and Rex. One liplock with a traveling companion, and suddenly he's acting like a little girl! He forced his attention back to the floor by floor battles to reach the ground. By the time they got to the bottom of the second lift, Mac felt like he had run a marathon. Somehow, amazingly, Vain seemed to be unharmed, despite his apparent determination to do anything and everything stupid and dangerous he could think of. After finally reaching the bottom of the Tower, Rex left and the bizarre mutant Strong tried to stay with Vain, but Vain sent him off to Sanctuary Hills to help with the defenses. God knew what they would think when he came lumbering over the bridge! Mac still hadn't been to Sanctuary, but he'd certainly heard enough about it. Before the war, after the war, now that it was inhabited by the survivors from Quincy and others, the reason Sanctuary was mentioned varied but it seemed to find its way into the conversation on a daily basis. He would have to get Vain to take him there at some point.

Once they were alone, an awkward silence fell again. It was almost dark, and sporadic gunfire rattled from the direction of Boston Commons, probably another shootout at the Combat Zone. Glancing at his companion, Mac noticed the return of the guarded looks from Vain and shook his head. Not again, he thought. I'm not putting up with another day of this sh... crap, let alone another week. "So," he said loudly, "are we headed back to Hangman? Out to Goodneighbor? Want to find a spot to camp?" Vain looked floored, like the question was unexpected, rather than the most logical thing to ask.

"Uh," the blond said hesitantly, "Hangman was, uh, pretty crowded. Why don't I spring for a room at the Rexford? We've earned it." Good, thought Mac, at least his brain hasn't completely turned off. Sounded like a near thing there for a minute, though. What the hell is wrong with him?

"Sounds good, I'd like to stop by and see Daisy while we're there, so the Rexford works for me. Ready to move out?" Mac had to admit Daisy was kind of a convenient excuse. He did want to send his share of the caps they would make from selling all this loot back to the farm, but what he really wanted was to park Vain somewhere safe where his boundlessly inquisitive nature wouldn't get him killed, go to the Third Rail, wheedle a whiskey out of Charlie and think about things. Because honestly, one brief interlude aside, this wasn't what he had thought he was signing up for at all when he agreed to... whatever this was.

"Sure," came the reply, "let's go." Vain was staring again. God only knew what the hell he thought about when he looked at Mac like that. He was staring like someone who was in the process of OD'ing on Daytripper.

"You lead, I'll follow." Mac was glad he had said that all along, because now it gave him a couple of advantages. First, he didn't have to feel Vain's eyes boring a hole in him as they walked. The awkward silences combined with the staring was enough to make him want to scream and start running. Second, he liked being able to watch the blond move and admire the shape of him. The shape of his ass in that Vault suit he insisted on wearing under his armor was amazing; his broad shoulders and muscular arms were worth watching as art alone. Mac had seen admiring eyes following Vain's every move in every settlement and town they visited; he could tell that if they really were going to be together, he was going to spend a fair amount of time feeling jealous of how other people's eyes caressed the other man's body everywhere he went. As they jogged through the streets in a stealthy dogtrot, rifles at the ready, Mac cursed himself for a fool when he kept finding his eyes on the rounded curves in front of him instead of the streets around him. What the heck was happening to him? In less than a week, he had gone from 'nope, no interest in ever trying to have sex again, thanks' to 'dying to have some of that, please'. Mac was feeling a little freaked out at the speed of the change, but he also wondered if they were ever going to get around to doing anything. If Vain has to almost die for him to kiss me, I can't even imagine what it would take to get him to... Mac cut that thought off immediately. He didn't need to freak out or get hard right now, and one of the two was guaranteed.

By the time they arrived at Goodneighbor, having encountered only a pack of feral dogs, Mac was so frustrated he was ready to scream. His thoughts just swirled around and around, repeating the same set of questions, objections and observations over and over. When Vain paid the caps to Clair for the room, dealing as always with the old woman's sour take on life in general, Mac felt like he was about to crawl out of his own skin. He hadn't felt this hyped up since the first time he tried Jet as a teenager. When they got to the room, he barely noticed that there was only a single bed - instead, he shrugged out of his duster, dropped his traveling pack and started rummaging in it for his rifle cleaning kit. He would act normal until Vain was asleep, then go bug Charlie. The Third Rail stayed open all night, so no worries about missing it. Not looking up, he asked Vain "Did you have anything you wanted to do outside, or are you going to sleep?" He was vaguely aware as Vain took his armor off, stripping down to the Vault suit he always wore. Finding the cleaning rags and oil, Mac began to oil his rifle, cleaning each crevice of road filth and dust. Mac heard Vain walk over and the door close, then he suddenly noticed that Vain had walked back to stand right in front of him. Looking up, he fell into Vain's darker blue eyes. This was certainly not a look he had seen on the road before.

"Hey." Oh sh... crap, it was the soft voice again. The more worked up Mac got, the less resistance he had to that voice, and right now he would have shot himself if Vain told him to with that tone. Get a grip, he cautioned himself.

"Y... yeah." Mac hated how uncertain he sounded. "I mean... uh... hey." His chest was tight, but not in a bad way. This wasn't the panic feeling, for once, this was... pleasant. Sort of. Vain took a step forward toward Mac. All of a sudden Mac realized that his jeans had gotten very tight indeed. His erection pressed against the fabric, straining against his underwear. He set his rifle down carefully, realizing that this wasn't the time to be holding a loaded weapon.

Vain sounded hesitant. "So... earlier, that kiss seemed... OK with you. I want you to tell me if you want to stop, and I will, OK?" Mac barely heard the words. He nodded, not even sure what he was agreeing to, but that voice went straight to his cock and whatever it wanted was fine with him. Vain's hand came out and slid along Mac's cheek, slowly, fingertips lingering as they traced the edge of his goatee, slid up his cheek and traced his cheekbone, then slid across to glide along the top of his ear and into his hair. He could barely breathe, he was so turned on. "I mean it," Vain said, a little more forcefully this time, "all you have to say is 'stop'." Mac didn't want anything in the world any less than for this to stop; he nodded again. Vain's other hand came out and rested in the middle of Mac's chest. No pressure, just a light presence on his breastbone. He raised his own hands, reached out to Vain, traced the sides of those pectoral muscles that looked so hard and solid, and that felt so amazing under his hands. His fingers slid down over the nipples, now pebbled and hard, clearly standing out under the soft blue fabric. Vain moaned softly, then a little louder when Mac pressed them more firmly. This was amazing; Mac had no idea why he had waited so long if he could feel like this.

Vain slowly wrapped his arms around Mac like he had earlier in the Tower and leaned in. Mac felt a twinge of unease, but he ignored it... this was too good to stop. All he wanted was to feel Vain's lips on his own, taste the other man's mouth on his. As the arms tightened around him, pulling him forward, and Vain's lips got closer to Mac's own, another twinge, stronger this time. Mac suddenly felt restricted, constrained by the arms around him. They weren't comforting any more, now they were holding him in place, trapping him. He knew this was crazy but he could feel tension shutting him down, drawing him back, hunching him over. Vain drew back like Mac had burned him. Mac felt horrible, all he could do was breathe and whisper "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't... I know it's not..."

Vain leaned forward a little and put his hand on Mac's shoulder. "Don't apologize." He stroked him softly, like he was calming a child. Mac remembered doing that to Duncan when he was crying, or when he had a bad dream. "We did a lot today, it's good, it's OK." Vain guided the younger man over to sit on the side of the bed, careful to only touch his shoulder.

Mac wanted to yell at him that it wasn't OK at all, that he wanted this and so much more, and that he hated not being able to, but instead he just grunted. There was no point. He knew all along this was a bad idea, and sure enough here they were, right where he had been afraid they would be. Mac hated this feeling more than anything, of being the broken thing, the crippled one, the weak kid that can't cope. Vain kept rubbing his shoulder. Slowly, Mac's tension receded and he felt his muscles relaxing. Sitting down helped. He still felt defeated, but at least he was calmer.

"Feeling better?" Vain asked. Mac nodded mutely, refusing to make eye contact. "What was the trigger?" Vain asked softly. Mac looked up, confusion evident on his face, as Vain continued, "What brought the bad feelings? Was it the touch, or the position, or what?"

"It was..." Mac sounded hoarse. "When you put your arms around me, it felt good, but when you pulled it was... I couldn't breathe. I wanted it. I liked it, but it was too... I don't know what..." He didn't want to think about it, afraid it would come back.

"It's OK. It's fine. I have an idea." Mac looked up questioningly. "I will just sit here and you touch me, move me around wherever you want me. That way you can't feel constrained, because it's all you. Do you think that would work?" Mac was aghast; it had never occurred to him that this would be something anyone would even consider. "If that's OK... I mean, if you don't want to..."

"No, that would be.... yeah. I'd like that... a lot. Um." Mac wanted to extend the same courtesy to Vain that the other man had given him. "If you want me to stop, anything, ever, just say so, same as you said to me." Vain nodded soberly, eyes glinting in the low light. Mac realized once again that he was never going to be able to repay this level of commitment and trust, he was never going to be even with this man if he kept giving gifts like this. He reached out and touched Vain's hair. The blond strands slid over and through his fingers; it was just as soft as Mac had suspected it would be. Lust hit him like a sledgehammer, and he could feel his cock throbbing again in his pants. Vain sighed softly and leaned his face into the hand that eased through his hair, pressed his lips against Mac's wrist. Mac's fingers traced those gorgeous facial features, along the chiseled nose, down the rippled scar along the jawline, across those soft lips. He was shocked when Vain's lips parted, a rough wet tongue slid out and caressed his finger for a second, then withdrew. Leaning forward, Mac touched his lips to Vain's, the contact sparking a fire in his gut. That tongue came back, sliding along his lip and he remembered the kiss in the Tower. He put his hands around Vain's face, slid them into his hair, twisted his face around so that they could press their lips together with tongues dueling and oh god it was the best thing ever. Vain's breathing had sped up, and he was making little moaning sounds. Mac felt like he was panting like a dog, so turned on he felt like he had a fire under his skin. He touched the fastener for the Vault suit and asked "Can I...?"

Vain reached up and unhooked the top button, slid the zipper down so that the suit opened. Mac watched his face the whole time, the eyebrows lifting slightly, the blown black dilated pupils, the so-red lips smiling... He heard the almost-whispered reply "Anything you want." God, that voice.

"I love your voice." Mac hadn't even meant to say that. He felt himself blushing, embarrassed by the revelation that forced itself out without any conscious intention. "When you talk like that, it... it's amazing."

"Like this?" came the soft reply. Mac's cock throbbed painfully. All he could do was nod. God, his mouth was so dry. "Good to know." Vain's eyes were wicked, half lidded, lips curling. He gave a twist, and the open Vault suit slid open further. As he pulled his arms out, exposing his bare torso to Mac's eyes, he kept talking. "I love to see you turned on. I'd do anything to see you enjoying yourself, I want to see you naked, I want to taste you, I want to take you in my mouth, would you like that, baby?" Mac's eyes were about to roll back in his head. He wondered for a second if it was possible to be so turned on you passed out. He had never heard anyone say anything even remotely like that, certainly he and Lucy had never had a conversation during sex, but this... Mac's hands shot out of their own accord, touching the muscles he had only seen before in glimpses or covered by cloth. He slid his hand over the nipples that produced a reaction before, pinched lightly, and was rewarded with a breathy moan. "God yes, play with them, I love you touching me, your hands on me, I want you so much, baby, you're so sexy, you're amazing." Vain leaned back on his arms; Mac was suddenly very aware of the bulge in the front of the Vault suit. This time he noted the twinge of unease in his mind, and realized that maybe it was best to avoid that for the moment. Instead he slid his hands down those muscled, bronzed arms, traced the strong fingers, slid his hands back up to the defined shoulders and down again across the strong abdominal muscles to the edge of where the suit was still latched. Jesus, Mac thought dazedly, how can anyone be this hot? Vain looked up at him through his lashes. "Can I see you? I promise I won't touch, baby. You can move me, use me, touch me, but I just want to see you baby, can I please see your body too?"

Mac felt uncomfortable, and he knew it showed on his face. He wasn't pleased with how he looked, never had been. He knew he was thin, thinner than he should be. Growing up in Little Lamplight, there wasn't a lot of food, and his life had left him with a good number of scars. He knew that Vain had been more than happy to undress, but Vain was... well, look at him. Shaking his head at his own misgivings, Mac remembered that this was something he could give back to even the score. If Vain wanted to see him, then he could do that. He pulled off his hat and ran a hand through his hair as Vain watched, entranced. Slowly he unbuttoned his flannel shirt and shrugged out of it, thin chest exposed to the air. He remembered the touch from earlier, so he picked up Vain's hand and pressed it against his breastbone. Just the feeling of the hand sliding along his chest, his ribs, his stomach made him think he might actually cum in his pants without a touch. He groaned at the feeling, overwhelmed.

"Wow, you're so beautiful." Vain started speaking again. "I knew you were hot but I didn't know you were this hot, god, look at you, just look at you..." Mac trembled under Vain's hand, and the hand froze for a second. A look quickly confirmed that Mac's trembling was from lust and not fear, and the hand resumed its wandering, along Mac's shoulders, over his arms, playing with the tuft of reddish-brown hair in the armpit. Vain's face was captivated, and his short, panting breath showed that he was clearly enjoying himself. "I'll do anything you want, baby, just let me know, move me around, what would you like..." the soft, gentle voice was like a drug. Mac felt like he was out of his mind. It had been so long since he had felt anything like this. The occasional wanks he had on the road were just dull and boring, more to relieve tension or boredom than anything like this. This was like being on fire. He grabbed Vain's other hand and meant to put it on his stomach but shivered when he touched it... and dropped it directly onto his crotch. He heard Vain's hiss of breath, and before he could even react he felt the hand close around his length, stroke, and stroke again. "Oh Mac baby you're so huge it's so big you're gorgeous..." Mac was frozen, trying desperately not to cum right ohgod then. 

"I'm..." Mac was stammering, "It's, I'm gonna, oh... stop..." As soon as he said 'stop', Vain's hands were off him. It was a shock at how quickly the other man could withdraw. He felt his cock pulse once, twice in his pants, missing the friction. Vain's eyes were on him, looking him in the face, still panting for breath but waiting for permission. Mac felt a wave of trust for the other man that he hadn't felt before. A tension he didn't know he was carrying suddenly eased a notch. Although he hadn't meant to say stop, he was glad he had... otherwise he wouldn't have had that demonstration of just how much Vain meant his words. Mac nodded, caught his breath, and smiled. Vain lit up with a smile that warmed the whole room, and Mac felt a twinge of an emotion different than lust inside. Vain was just so amazing. 

Mac reached out and rubbed the bulge in the Vault suit, grinning as Vain's breath caught in his throat. "Suddenly, he's at a loss for words," he teased, then slid his hand into the suit. Vain laughed breathlessly and then pulled the fasteners at his waist open with rough, hasty fingers. Suddenly there was a hard cock in front of Mac. Vain's cock. He felt his mind stutter a little, amazed that he was here doing this, but he wanted this as much as he had ever wanted anything. This was nothing like anything he had done before, so how could there be a problem? he thought. Besides, this was something else he could give to Vain. A rush of affection for the other man passed through him, sweet and edgy. He wrapped his hand around Vain's cock gently, feeling the stiff flesh and so-soft skin, silky hardness in his fist, stroked up, then down, repeated, sliding his hand around the shaft and moving the foreskin gently over the head again and again. He tried to mimic what he did to himself, not completely sure how this was supposed to work for someone else, but Vain's moaning got louder and he figured he must be doing something right. Liquid was drooling from the eye, and he worked that lubricant in, making the slide smoother, slicker, and Vain was panting, groaning, getting louder.

"Mac, baby, I'm..." Mac knew what that meant. He sped up slightly, twisting, and within seconds a spray of white splattered across the bronzed chest in front of him. He kept milking, moving and pulling, seeing the gradually decreasing spurts and listening to the shockingly loud moaning cries of the other man. The whole hotel must know what they were doing, Mac thought with a grin. When Vain was done, Mac stopped and rubbed his hands along the thighs in front of him. Taking a cloth from his backpack, he used it to mop up Vain's chest and abs. He leaned down over the reclining blond and kissed him gently, and his reward was a wondering grin.

"Was that OK?"

"Holy shit, that was beyond OK. That was amazing." Vain was laughing, out of breath and flushed. "Were you serious the other night, when you said you'd never...?"

"Nope." He grinned. "Never had. You were my first man. Are. You know what I mean." They both snickered. Mac thought this night couldn't get much more surreal.

"Mac, let me take care of you. Please." Mac looked over and Vain was intent, watching him and gauging his reaction. Mac realized that he never had gotten off. He wanted to, but he was also aware that he was pretty much at his limits for stimulation right now. Surprisingly, Vain kept on. "I'm not trying to push, and stop always means stop, you know that. I just want to give you what you gave me."

"I... OK. We can try." Mac figured, what the hell. At best, I get off, at worst, I still got to get him off, and that was hot as f... hell.

"Thank you, baby." Oh shit, the voice was back, Mac realized. I never should have told him about that. Nobody had ever called him baby either, but he was rapidly coming to realize that he liked that too. A lot. "Take your pants down please, let me see that giant cock of yours, I can't wait to touch it." Mac's arms were shaking with horniness and tension as he undid his belt and shoved his pants and underwear down, and his long, thick cock slapped against his stomach, nestled in a thatch of dark auburn pubes. He never really thought about it being particularly big or small, but Vain seemed to think it was. "Oh wow, baby, that's so huge, is it really all for me?" Vain's hand wrapped around his cock and it had been good when it was in his pants, but feeling bare flesh against it was almost enough to make him go off immediately. He moaned, realizing a second later it was a lot louder than he meant to. "So much for me, thank you, you look so beautiful like this, baby, so amazing, just look at you..." He felt something different and looked down and suddenly realized that both of Vain's hands were on him, pulling and twisting and sliding and ohgoditwastoomuch.

""M gonna..." Mac's orgasm went through him like a runaway caravan Brahmin. All that time he had spent so worked up had translated into a neverending gusher that kept pumping and pumping. Vain made excited noises as he kept stroking and Mac thought he might just die from pleasure. Finally, he spiraled back down. Vain caught his eye as he lay there panting and exhausted from the release that had wiped him out completely. Holding Mac pinned with his gaze, Vain lifted his hand which was now covered in jizz and licked it, tongue sliding out over the thumb and then licking the whole hand clean, even making little 'mm' noises. Mac was so overwhelmed he didn't know what to do. That should have been nasty but it was just... hot. As Vain used the same cloth to clean him up that he had used just minutes before, Mac realized that he had been able to do things that he never thought he would be able to do again, and it was all because of the handsome man beside him. Suddenly the future looked a lot brighter.


	6. Bad Dreams Are Made of This, Who Are Ghouls To Disagree?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bad dreams, bad service, and bad news.
> 
> Note: I changed the canon quest a bit here, because I always thought Mac's quest was balls. His son has a fast moving illness, but he's been here for months? What? This way at least the timing makes more sense. Sorry if it offends anyone.

Vain knew he was in trouble when he looked around at the empty room. Rush flooring with split bamboo walls, and he heard the muffled 'wee-wee-wee' of the idly spinning fan blades in the dry air. This was a place of pain and regret, and he knew what was coming. He trudged forward against his will, opening the door and moving quietly into the empty hallway. It was dark, but he was moving slower than he should. He knew the building was full of people, there should be sounds, talking, movement, not this dead silent stillness. He went into the first room, and there were corpses inside, half-rotten, lips drawn back in death's rictus, looking like they were screaming. He wanted nothing more than to leave, but he had to go to each room, and each bedroom, kitchen, bathroom had corpses, staring and screaming faces silent in death. Men, women, children, babies, all dead, all rotten (they were soldiers, not like this, no babies, why god why no). Finally he came to the last door, and oh god he hated this so much, he tried to resist but his hand opened the door and there on a bed was the young Chinese man with no legs, blood everywhere, crying softly (no, he thought, it wasn't like this at all, he wasn't already hurt, he wasn't like this, no), face screwed up, whispering "Please don't kill me, don't hurt me, I don't want to die" over and over. (no, he was a soldier, he wasn't speaking English, he fought me, god make it stop). Now he could smell smoke, something was on fire. Vain heard a noise, a soft scuffle from the hallway, and he knew the dead were standing right outside the door, waiting for...

"Fucking... fuck! God." Vain lurched awake and didn't know where he was. His heart was pounding in his chest, gasping for breath, drenched in fear sweat. He instinctively turned on the Pip-Boy flashlight; even the green light was better than darkness. Looked at the time: 3 AM. There was a bed under him and someone sitting... Mac. Mac sitting half-dressed, watching him, leaned back in the chair by the bed, slouched down and legs spread open. Vain felt sweat running down his forehead, and he could smell himself. He reeked of fear, like he always did after these nightmares. Mac took a drag on the cigarette he was smoking and made a sympathetic face, and Vain realized where the smoke had come from in the dream.

"Boss." He blew smoke out in a plume straight up at the ceiling; the poor light in the room made him just a scarecrow figure with a glowing ember in his hand. "I'd say good morning, but it doesn't look like it's going too good so far, and it's barely morning yet."

Vain laughed shakily. He pulled himself upright in the bed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Nightmares. They don't get any easier." Wordlessly, Mac offered him a cigarette from the pack he held; when that was rejected, he shrugged and sat back.

"Boss..."

"Mac," Vain interrupted. "We've not only kissed, we've held each others cocks. I think we're past the normal employer and employee relationship by now. Call me Vain. Or even Chaz, if you want, though that could get confusing for everyone else." He knew Mac was probably flushed bright red, but the greenish light hid it if he was. He could tell by the embarrassed grin that crossed the younger man's face that the blush was almost certain to be there.

"OK." A slow smile. "Vain." Just the sound of him saying it sent a shiver through Vain's core; god he had it bad for this guy. Mac continued, "if I can help, I want to. You've been so patient with me and my... stuff. Just... I'm here for you." Earnest blue eyes looked over from the chair. "You know, if you want to talk."

"No, I'm fine, just give me a minute." Vain could see Mac's hurt expression even in the greenish underwater light. He watched the younger man's face close up. Instinct was no guide here; Vain wanted nothing more than pretend to be fine. Unfortunately, he also knew that when Mac had already risked sharing his pains with him, for him to refuse would pretty much ruin the closeness that had been developing. He took a deep breath and swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth. Mac had turned his head away, but the tension in his jaw and the tic in his cheek made it obvious how he felt, but he was silent. Vain felt that tense line and profile like a stab in his heart.

"OK, you're right... I'm sorry." Vain managed to say, and then swallowed again. Mac glanced up, eyes still shadowed. "I'm... I never talked about this stuff with anyone much. It's easier to just... pretend it's fine. Only Nora knew I had these... and Zell. Yeah. OK." Mac was watching him again but his face was open again, eyes searching. Vain gulped a deep breath in, then another. "I have these dreams. There are a few of them. Nightmares, I mean. Over and over. This one, I'm in China, from the last war. I'm in a military base up in Mongolia, working my way through a barracks, killing everyone inside. It was a Shadow op, right, the guy in charge of the... well, it doesn't matter. But in the dream, it's not soldiers. It's just normal people. Women, kids, babies. They're all dead when I get there. But the guy who was in charge, instead of being awake and ready to fight like he was, he's already hurt and he's just lying there crying. And then dead people all come and try to... try to..." His breath caught and he couldn't keep talking through the thickness in his throat. The horror of the scene grabbed him again, even in his memory. 

Mac came over and sat beside him on the bed. Tentative, hesitant, Vain felt a hand rest on his shoulder. After a moment of resting there, trembling slightly, Mac's arm extended and reached slowly around the blond. Tiny almost imperceptible twitches gave away how hard Mac was struggling, and Vain was suddenly aware of just how challenging this must be for the other man, but the comfort he gave was undeniable. Mac smelled like cigarette smoke and oil and gunpowder, but Vain thought it was the smell of safety. He leaned into the arm around him, up against the thin but solid chest, and sighed. Mac sat beside him like a block of stone at first but slowly relaxed one tiny bit at a time. His face gradually drew close to Vain's hair, and after a few minutes his nose pressed into the soft golden strands. Vain thought he was quiet, but after a bit he felt a tremble in the other man's chest and a sudden wetness in his hair.

"Hey." Vain's soft voice fell into the silence of the room like a pebble into water. "Hey... Mac." The shaking from the other man intensified, but there was no response. "Baby. It's OK."

"No, it's not." Mac's voice was low and choked, as his lips moved in Vain's hair. "I don't know how to do this. And I hate not knowing." A deep breath. "But I'm trying."

"You're a natural, baby." Vain grinned in spite of himself and snuggled a little more into the arm around him. He resolved to get Mac to stop panicking and second-guessing himself if he had to die doing it. "Did you sleep? Did I wake you up with my nightmare? I'm sorry."

"No, I..." Suddenly Mac was more tense. "I slept a little." The arm across his shoulders was stiff and solid now, like a wooden rod. Vain could guess exactly how much sleep was involved with 'a little', and it had four letters, started with an n and ended with an e.

"Let me guess, you don't like sharing the bed." Vain felt the other man's tension ratchet up again, and quickly said "It's fine, you don't have to, I don't even expect it. I'd be surprised if you did like sharing a bed, given everything else. It's OK, Mac, really. You take the bed and I can sleep in the bedroll on the floor. I want you to sleep."

"Really? You're not... upset?" Mac sounded almost pathetically grateful, and for the thousandth time Vain cursed the Gunner assholes that turned a confident, cocky (handsome) sniper into this nervous wreck in situations that involved any intimacy beyond a bullet at long range. They were dead, but their legacy of pain lived on.

"No, why would I be? I'll never be offended if you speak up for what you need. I want you to be well rested, because it's good for you. I want you to be happy, whatever that takes, and whatever you need to take care of yourself, I expect you to do, OK?"

"OK" came the soft reply. A long exhale followed, then Mac continued "You keep the bed though. I'll sleep on the floor." A snicker. "'Boss'." Vain twisted around and pressed a kiss to the smiling lips beside him, leaving Mac a little startled but pleased, a crooked smile lifting one side of his mouth and his eyes half-lidded. Seeing that expression, Vain was really tempted to keep kissing him, but he knew the next day would be wrecked if he did.

"OK, if we are going to sleep, we should get to bed again." Vain then let his voice drop into the softer, deeper tones he had used the night before to good effect, "Unless you want to stay up, baby." Mac groaned.

"I never should have told you about that. I knew I was gonna regret it." Mac spread out the bedroll on the other side of the room and flopped down on it with a sigh.

"Regret is a strong word, Mac." said Vain as he turned off the Pip-Boy light. A snort was the only response.

=

They awoke to a loud pounding on the door. Mac, still half-asleep, cursed under his breath and snatched up his rifle from where it lay next to his bedroll. Vain, once he realized where he was, stomped over and flung open the door to reveal Clair Hutchins, whose expression could have curdled milk. "What?" he snarled, somewhat taken aback in spite of himself.

"You boys woke up the whole hotel last night fucking so damn loud." she snapped. Very ostentatiously looking past Vain like he wasn't even there, she made a show of giving the entire room the once-over. He didn't dare glance at Mac, but a choked sound came from that direction and Vain could only imagine the flush that must be on the other man's face. "First off, as the manager I needed to make sure you hadn't torn up my room too bad with your little orgy, and good for you, looks like you haven't. Second of all, I expect another ten caps for the inconvenience of having to come up here personally. Third, once you've paid your money, feel free to get the hell out. I think you've been enough inconvenience to me and the other guests for one trip." She held her hand out peremptorily.

"We weren't..." Vain gave up on that front, it was none of her business what they were or weren't doing. On to the next, he supposed. "10 more caps? Are you serious?" The hand extended in front of Vain motioned in a 'hurry up' gesture. Clair's grim look hadn't shifted at all. He finally looked over at Mac, and wanted to burst out laughing at the hangdog expression on his face. Deciding it wasn't worth arguing over, he dug out the ten caps and put them in Clair's hand. 

Clair grunted, "Good, that's that. Now get out." Without another word, the old woman turned and stomped away down the hall.

Vain suddenly had a thought. "Wait a minute," he called after her, "What other guests?" His answer was a lifted middle finger as she turned the corner onto the stairs. "Bitch" he mumbled as he turned around. 

Mac was sitting in one of the chairs with his face in his hands. At first Vain was worried that he was crying, but he soon heard the sounds of snickering coming from behind the wall of fingers. Vain started laughing too, and Mac dropped his hands and said in a high-pitched voice "what other guests?" and they both laughed until they were wheezing. Just when they seemed to be almost done, Vain came out with a pitch-perfect mockery of the old woman's tone and belted out "You boys woke up the whole hotel!" and they were cackling again. Finally they subsided into occasional chuckles.

As they made their way through the lobby, a chorus of wolf whistles and catcalling arose from the people standing around. Even Fred Allen was making rude noises, though Vain had never seen the man make much of an effort to engage with reality. Vain didn't say anything because he worried that Mac might be embarrassed; after all, the other man had stayed in Goodneighbor for a while and had a business and reputation to protect here. He wouldn't have traded the previous night for anything, but he hated running the gauntlet like this and letting them get away with trying to shame them. Scowling, he thought they were probably just jealous that someone else was getting laid. Just thinking about getting laid brought the thought of Mac laid out in front of him with his pants around his knees and it proved so distracting that it was easier to ignore the raucous crowd and leave the building.

As they made their way out into the late morning light, blinking a bit at the bright sunlight, Vain remembered that Mac had mentioned wanting to visit Daisy's shop. Without a word, he directed them to the stores. Vain stopped off in Kill Or Be Killed to trade in some of the wealth of ammo they had found and scrounged as Mac continued around the corner to Daisy's Discounts. By the time he finished negotiating with KL-E-0 for the more exotic ammo, he went around the corner and stepped into the middle of a deeper conversation than he expected.

Mac looked like he had been gut punched. "Daisy, what do I do? I never heard of anything like that, I... we've got some antibiotics, and some Med-X, would that..." Daisy had a grim expression even for a ghoul. Mac looked up as Vain came in and said "Va... Boss. Daisy just told me that my... my son Duncan is sick." Mac's expression pleaded with him not to show any surprise, though Vain was completely floored. Mac had a son? "Apparently it came on quick, and now he's too weak to walk and he's covered in blue boils. Have you ever heard of a disease like that?"

"I... no. I haven't," Vain said soberly. "That doesn't sound like anything I ever heard of before the war, even." Daisy's eyebrows rose at the phrase 'before the war', and she seemed about to react but then a look of stunned surprise came over her face.

"MacCready! Wait! I just remembered something!" Daisy's voice was clearly excited even through the distortion produced by her ghoulish state. "Remember that guy Sinclair, that came through here a few months ago? I think he said that his partner was looking for something to cure blue boils at the old Med-Tek lab up in Malden. Last I heard the partner died and Sinclair ended up in a mutant stewpot." Daisy shook her head at the idea.

Mac's face lit up. "I remember Sinclair coming through the Third Rail, but I didn't hear anything about that cure. Do you think it's still there?" He turned to Vain, so excited he was almost shaking. "We have to go see. Please, Boss, can we just go and see if we can find it? I hate to ask you to do me another favor, but..."

Vain shook his head. "Not another word, of course we will. It's your son." Mac's eyes welled up and he looked away and blinked. Vain turned to Daisy and said, "If we leave now, we can be there by tonight. Daisy, what's the latest word on Malden? Any news from the caravans?"

"It's pretty high on the 'avoid' list, I'm afraid," she winced. "Little bit of everything there, and none of it good. Reports of raiders, synths, dangerous wildlife, you name it. Med-Tek itself has a huge pack of ferals camped on its doorstep, and the whole building is probably full of them too. Most medical facilities are. As if that wasn't enough, last I heard the old hospital there had been taken over by a big clan of supermutants. Caravans won't be caught dead near there unless they get way off course... in which case," she chuckled mirthlessly, "they usually are caught dead. And that's just bad for business." She lit a cigarette with a convenient lighter and took a long drag. "If you do manage to find this miracle cure, though, bring it to me. I can get it to Duncan, MacCready knows I know the way."

"Daisy, you're a miracle worker. We'll be back as soon as we get it." Mac seemed almost manic in his desire to be underway. Vain negotiated the sale of as much of his looted stuff as Daisy would accept along with some of the remaining ammo, then they left the shop and headed for the entrance to Goodneighbor.

=

Vain maintained his silence as they left and headed north towards the bridge to Bunker Hill, but finally spoke up. "So... you have a son."

Mac started guiltily, then looked down. "Yeah. I do." He glanced over at Vain, taking in the set jaw and the hurt look. "I meant to... well... I don't talk about him to anyone. I mean, having a kid is like a ready-made hostage, right?" Too late, he clearly remembered Vain's story and what happened to Shaun, as he winced and said, very quietly "Sh... oot. Sorry." Vain closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped over to the edge of the road and stood in a sheltered niche so they could have a conversation without having to scan for enemies while on the move. Mac stepped up beside him and the familiar scent of gunpowder, oil and cigarettes brought him a sense of comfort despite the surroundings.

"I'm not mad, I just..." Vain blew his breath out in a sigh. "I guess I'm just surprised that something that important hadn't come up yet. I mean, what other secrets are there? Other family members? Other major enemies? Are you secretly the head of the Brotherhood of Steel? Anything else I need to know about?" 

Mac grinned at the idea of himself stomping around in power armor, but quickly sobered up. "No. I swear, B... Vain. This was the only thing you didn't know about that you needed to, and I should have told you. I mean... I didn't intentionally _not_ tell you, if that makes any sense. I trust you to know, I just... hadn't brought it up yet. Dunc is the only part of Lucy I still have, and I came north because I couldn't make enough to support him. I figured he was safer if I was farther away, considering what I do for a living. He's being kept by friends of mine, and... if something happens to him, I can't... I don't..." Mac stopped and fought back tears. Finally he reached out deliberately and hugged the other man. Vain relaxed into the embrace for a moment, despite knowing how exposed they were. "I'm sorry, Vain." Mac whispered in his ear, then let him go.

"OK. I forgive you." Vain said, pleased in spite of himself at the embrace. "As long as there aren't any more surprises, we're good. As you pointed out, I know better than most how fragile and precious kids are, and how they come first." He sighed, wondering if he would ever find Shaun, but put that worry away for another day. First things first. "Come on, Mac. Let's go kill some ghouls."


	7. The Medicine of Love Cures All Ills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys go into deep, dark places and each of them learns a valuable lesson. One lesson is that we don't always see what's right in front of our noses. The other is that it's not wise to assume quiet means unoccupied. Wonder who learns which?

Seen from the outside, Med-Tek Research was just another ugly, post-modern eyesore jammed into a Commonwealth suburb. The gaudy paint that had probably made the building bright and cheerful was stained and faded, and Mac thought it looked more like the mausoleum it had become than anything that could save a life. The skies were pissing down rain, and he and Vain were growing accustomed to misery as they squelched through the mud on the hill looking down onto the parking lot. The shambling, mindless ferals in front weren't much deterrent - ferals in the open were easy to kill, especially for two highly trained snipers. Mac shuddered. Inside, if there were more ghouls, though... Just the thought of the narrow halls and tight spaces reminded him of that ruined subway station where Lucy died. Mac fought off the panic that rose into his muscles at the memory, forcing himself to pay attention and watch Vain for instruction on how to play this.

Just as Vain caught his eye and signaled, their rising rifle barrels were interrupted by shouting. A muffled beeping grew louder as they watched a mutant suicider running down the road directly into the cluster of ghouls. Both fell to the ground and shielded their eyes as a second sun bloomed in front of them. The few ghouls who survived stumbled out of the parking deck nearby only to be brutally exterminated by two other supermutants armed with automatic rifles. Mac glanced over to see Vain laughing silently, shaking his head at the sight. Once the mutants finished and were starting to look around, a few sniped shots killed them and silence fell over the entrance. Vain leaned over and whispered "It's a shame we couldn't send the greenies in ahead of us", his breath tickling Mac's ear. His eyes closed involuntarily at the sensation, memories of two nights ago at the Rexford surging to the forefront before being pushed back down by fear for his son.

Mac drew in a breath and shook off the last of his brief surge of lust, chuckling in response "Maybe you should have brought Strong, he could talk them into it."

Vain snorted a laugh before crouching down. "OK, let's do this. Standard sweep, nobody walks out of sight of the other until we know what's there. No noise or we could pull a whole floor or worse at once." Mac nodded soberly, and drawing silenced pistols they went in.

The building was exactly like he had feared. It was a filthy, dark hell of narrow winding passages that led every direction and no direction. Walls had been demolished, ceilings had collapsed, and the warren of offices and small test labs was stuffed with ghouls. They came from everywhere, even spaces that seemed far too small to hold a human body. Cupboards, baseboards, under desks, down from ceilings... the grunting, squelching noises of ferals were everywhere. Every room had two or three in it, wandering aimlessly around or, worse yet, lying in a pile pretending to be dead just waiting for a shiver or a noise to surge back into motion. Mac was constantly fighting back his fear and memories of Lucy's final moments, the muscle memories of fleeing with an infant so strong at times he felt the weight of Duncan in his arms again.

Vain shot him a concerned look as they cleared the director's office, practically emptying a clip into a strong, fast ghoul that had somehow gotten stuck behind a desk. "You OK?" he asked gently, cocking an eyebrow.

"Memories" was Mac's only reply. Vain looked at him in thought for a moment and nodded. When they managed to unlock the terminal with the password they had gotten from Daisy, Mac felt a brief moment of hope trickle through his fear. Where the hell had Sinclair found it?, he wondered. Wherever it came from, if it could save Duncan, it was worth whatever sacrifice needed to be made. Vain was busy running around scavenging, as usual; every time they stopped, the blond was gathering and bundling anything he thought might be useful for travel. Mac took the time to reload both guns with ammo, check them for blockages or filth and pass Vain's back to him. He wanted to be annoyed at the delay, wanted to let his impatience show, but at the same time, he knew he never would have made it this far without Vain's help. Gratitude had to count for something, right? He worried a lot about this debt that was building, though. He was able to give back the caps of his retainer for Winlock and Barnes. That at least showed willing, though it was hardly enough payback for such a tremendous effort. This, though? How do you pay back something like this? Mac had never owned anything that could pay back the gift of his son's life. If they found a cure here, he reminded himself. This was only worthwhile if there was a cure... but even so, what a massive effort to make for someone just out of goodness. He glanced at Vain again, who was engaged in trying to wrestle some sort of mechanical contraption into his pack. How was it possible to go from being so alone to feeling so... what? What was this?

"Let's go." Vain's voice cut through his thoughts. Without a word, he picked up his gun and moved back to the door. They made their way back to the rear of the main lobby, where the doors to the basement areas and the main labs were now open.

= 

What followed was a horror story like the ones the kids in Little Lamplight used to tell each other. Dark halls, packs of ghouls shrieking and gibbering, and everywhere the smell of filth and closed up places. Even the spiders didn't build here; there were no webs, because there were no bugs to eat... just centuries of dust and filth. Even Vain looked disturbed, especially when they reached some sort of testing area where ghouls were trapped in tiny cells and had clearly been there since the war. Each new area brought its own dose of horror; each new laboratory made Mac hope that they had finally reached the end, only to have his hopes dashed by more hallways leading ever onward into the bowels of the earth.

"How deep did they dig these things?" Vain asked once, when Mac had a moment of horror at the situation overcome him making his arms shake and his flesh crawl for a moment. Mac just shook his head wordlessly. Clearly a rhetorical question; if the one born before the war didn't know, Mac sure as hell didn't. His legs burned like he had been running, and a cut from one of the ghoul claws felt like it was turning septic. He spread some Med-X ointment on it and wrapped a piece of cloth around it. The sounds of scraping heralded a new wave of ghouls, pouring out of the endless depths below.

"Did you ever... hear of this place?" Mac asked an hour later, as they rested and drank some fresh water near yet another pile of ghoul corpses, bloated bodies clad in tattered rags of clothing. "You know... before?"

"No," Vain shook his head wearily. "There were a thousand of these places, Mac. Little Defense contractors, firms nobody had ever heard of, couple of guys with a vision, they were popping up around town like mushrooms. Most of them went out of business within a few years. I never knew any of them had anything like this underneath. I can't figure out what they did with all the dirt, honestly... they've dug halfway to hell."

Mac glanced at the ghouls again, a brief vision of them starting to move again making him twitch. "More than halfway, I'd say." Vain chuckled and gave him a hand up, and they set off again.

=

When they came out of the elevator, Mac didn't realize at first that they were close to the end. Another corridor, another locked door sealed behind a dead terminal, another trackless waste of dust and detritus. This was the first place they found a dead ghoul who had been killed by something other than the two of them. There was a body lying on the floor, and Mac shot it before it could move, but the puff of dust rising from the corpse made them realized this ghoul had expired years, even decades, before. Desiccated and fragile, the corpse clutched a baby rattle in its hand. In life, it had been a woman. Mac wondered who this woman had been. Was the rattle her last memory of her own child? There was no way to know, but there seemed a sort of tragedy here that he was not used to seeing. Over a hundred meters deep in the earth, this woman breathed her last breath. Even after radiation had turned her into a monster, she held a memento of... his eyes teared up for a moment and he shook his head. Focus. Her child is long dead, mine has a chance to survive if I can just focus, he told himself.

There were turrets. Of course there were turrets. The central area was clearly the heart of the complex; if the cure was here, it would be inside. Mac wished that just once, the reason to be in a place could be found in the lobby instead of at the furthest point from the entrance. The final door hissed open. A few wandering ghouls in lab coats were silently killed, and there was no noise from the lab. All the movement and groaning sounds had stopped. Vain stepped in cautiously...

... and seemed to be almost ripped in half by a glowing arm. Time slowed to a crawl. Mac emptied his clip into the spectral glowing ghoul's face, blowing its head into fragments and sending it into a pile of radioactive limbs. Before the green monstrosity had tumbled to a stop, Mac had whipped around, slamming stim after stim into Vain's bleeding body. Vain convulsed, body spasming and blood spurting from the huge gashes. The ragged edges of the wound glowed with radiation and shed filth from the ghoul. Mac rummaged frantically in Vain's pack, throwing useless telephones and other pre-war garbage across the room in his haste to find the medicines. He hooked up an IV of Rad-Away, all but slamming the needle in, along with one of purified water to replace the fluid that the Rad-Away leached out. Vain's face was pale, his eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks. Pip-Boy diagnostics showed area after area as red or yellow, even with the medicine. Mac could barely look at him, he just kept repeating "Don't die, don't die, don't die" while he frantically searched for more water, medical supplies, anything to help Vain... but he laughed aloud at the black irony when the first thing he found was a giant purple syringe labeled "Prevent". The supposed cure for Duncan. Would this "cure" even work? Even in a best case scenario, had he saved his son only to lose his... what? 

Partner? 

Lover? 

In a brief, crystalline moment of realization, Mac saw that without noticing, somehow Vain had become more important to him than anyone except Duncan. Was this love? He honestly didn't know. Love could mean so many different things. What he felt for Vain was different than what he had felt for his friends back home, different than what he had felt, did feel, for his son... but different didn't mean weaker, or less. What he had felt for Lucy was like a rock; solid, unshakeable, dependable. It was made of a million shared moments, a jigsaw of tiny pieces of trust and understanding and joy. He had always known her, since they were young. It was never in question that they were destined to be together - everyone in Little Lamplight knew it. There hadn't been a lot of lust or mystery, but just a sense of solid closeness, of knowing what the other needed or wanted and being overjoyed to provide it. Lucy was the only point of comfort in a profoundly cold, miserable, ugly world. If that was love, this wasn't it... what he felt for Vain was nothing like that. Since that night Vain started flirting, just being with the handsome blond was like being in the middle of a fire and tornado at the same time. He had no idea what Vain wanted, what he was thinking, but just looking at him made Mac's flesh burn like there were ants crawling inside his veins. Just the sound of his voice was itchy and overwhelming; the smell of him, the sight of all that smooth, tanned skin could lay Mac out like a bullet, and had not two nights ago. 

Even more amazing, Vain didn't care that he was broken. Mac couldn't imagine anyone else taking the time and patience to soothe his fears and understand his peculiarities like Vain. Winlock and Barnes had left him shattered, and Vain found him in pieces. Instead of ignoring him or mocking him like most people would, the noble fu... fool had just sat down with a tube of glue and tried to fix what he could, one piece at a time. With an overwhelming sense of fear, he realized that this knowledge might have come too late. If Vain died, especially if he went like Lucy, torn apart in a hole in the ground by ferals, Mac didn't think he could survive it. Once was terrible, but twice... Something in his soul cried out at the very thought. It was a bitter realization that his original feelings were right; caring for others really was dangerous. Mac never thought he would be at risk again for feeling like this, but the joke was on him. You could be utterly flayed by something happening to someone else, and there was nothing you could do about it. Right now he felt like his flesh was hanging off his bones in tatters, leaving his beating heart exposed to the world.

He went to sit by Vain and just looked at his face. Putting his hand on the blond's chest, felt his heartbeat, and was surprised to be suddenly overcome by wracking sobs. Mac didn't often cry; he had wept more in the past few weeks than he had in the four years since Lucy died. Tears poured out of his eyes, streaming down his cheeks into his goatee. He instinctively put both hands over his face, but taking his hand off Vain's chest even for a moment almost brought a panic attack. He reached back out to feel Vain's heartbeat again almost immediately. As long as it was strong, he was alive. He could hear the blond in his head, saying _don't cry for me, baby, you have to get that medicine back to Duncan_ and he snorted in spite of himself. Even in Mac's head, Vain was a selfless jackass. That thought broke the surge of fear and dread a bit and provoked a totally inappropriate giggle, but it reminded him to focus on being useful. He checked the water IV, trying to focus with bleary eyes, and saw it was almost empty so he dumped another can of purified water into it.

Time passed. Vain stirred a few times like he was waking, but each time subsided again into sleep. Mac kept watch on the passage of time on the Pip-Boy, and after two hours slid yet another stim into the big muscle of Vain's leg. He was pushing his luck, since stims were toxic in large quantities, but there was no other means to repair the damage. At least he had found a supply of water and some scientist's stash of presumably contraband snacks so there were two century old snack cakes and potato crisps to eat along with the mole rat jerky from the bags. Exhausted, he slipped into a light doze. Even sleeping, the reassuring _thud-thud-thud_ of Vain's heart pulsed under his hand.

=

"M... Mac?" Mac's eyes slammed open. Vain was still stretched out on the filthy floor. The Rad-Away bag and water bag were both completely empty, and Vain was staring at him blearily.

"Oh god, Vain, you're awake, I..." Mac didn't know what to do, and ended up trying to do everything at once, badly. His hands fumbled the can of water, spilling almost a quarter of it on the floor as he tried to get it to the IV bag, unhook the other line and check on Vain all at the same time. A dry chuckle interrupted his flailing around. Vain tried to sit up, wincing a bit at the stiffness and the state of his shredded leather armor. Mac pushed him back flat almost roughly, checking the Pip-Boy's medical diagnostics to see how Vain's recovery was progressing and almost burst into tears when he saw that most of the indicators were green. There was some residual liver and kidney damage from the excess of stims used, filter organ indicators a strong yellow, but Doc Lee or someone could fix that with their specialty nostrums and medical equipment. He was alive, and likely to stay that way.

"Well don't kill me because you're concerned about me, that's... mmf!" His mouth pressed over Vain's, cutting off his words. He pressed against Vain, lips forced almost painfully against his teeth, trying to let the kiss express all the worry and fear and doubt in his mind for the past twelve hours. Vain seemed stunned at first, but quickly responded, arms coming up and wrapping around Mac's shoulders. Mac felt his anxiety twitch and forced it away like a feral dog, the first time he had ever done that, ever been able to do that. He leaned into Vain's arms, exactly where he wanted to be. When he finally pulled back and sighed, Vain whispered in his ear "It was almost worth it getting hurt if that's what I get when I wake up."

"I will wake you up that way every day if you just stop trying to get yourself killed, you dumb bastard." Mac replied before he even thought about what he was saying, but thinking about what he just said made his face burn like fire. This was a little more honesty than he intended.

"Every day?" Vain was grinning now, face lit up like sunlight. "What did I do to get this lucky? Hey, if I take a nap in the afternoon, do I get another one? Or is it just once a day?" Mac pulled back and gave him a look.

"You are without a doubt the biggest pain in the ass..."

"Hey, just trying to figure out the rules here! Can't blame a guy for wanting to figure out the best rewards!" Vain's expression changed suddenly, good humor running out like water from a broken bottle. "Rewards. Did you find the medicine?"

"Yeah, we've got it." He held up the bundle of cloth that protected the purple syringe. "Got to get it to Daisy, but I think we're good on that front. There was some other stuff going on though." He looked down, then back up... whatever showed on his face would just have to show. To Mac's disgust, Vain's face told the whole story; he looked startled, then upset for a second, then that cheeky grin came back and he just knew the blond was going to make some sort of smartass comment to play it off. Not this time, he thought. In a quiet voice, Mac said "You almost died." He could feel his eyes tingle and very much wanted not to cry again. "I can't..." he forced out through a tight throat, "I can't lose another person to ferals. I just can't..." Mac knew he was losing this fight; tears started pouring down his face. "I can't take it. I'm not that f... freaking strong, Vain."

"Baby, you're one of the strongest fucking men I've ever met, and that's a fact." Vain took his hand, threading their fingers together. "You've lived through enough hell to destroy five men, and yet here you are, standing strong and spitting in the eye of the people who want you down. And you saved my life. Again. That's twice." Vain looked uncharacteristically sober for a moment, eyes dark and slightly shadowed. "So I don't want to hear any horseshit about how you owe me a debt you can never repay or any of that other stuff you tell yourself, alright? I'd already be dead twice if not for you, baby. If there's any owing to be done, I owe you." 

"We can talk about that later." Mac tried his best to stuff all his feelings back in the box they used to occupy in his mind, but they didn't seem to fit. "Can you move? We should get out of here." Vain stood up stiffly, cursing again when he saw the state of his armor and Vault suit. Mac felt a rush of gratitude just seeing the other man stand up.

"Let's get to Goodneighbor and get this to Daisy." Vain stumbled a bit as he tried to move around, holding onto a bench in the ruined laboratory. The huge disturbed patch in the dust would tell anyone else who made it this far what had happened... Mac's eyes tracked the blood splatters, the sprays of ghoul filth, the scattered items... oh. He went over and picked up a (now badly dented) telephone he had thrown across the room earlier. Responding to the raised eyebrows with only a grimace, he tucked it back into the pack, repeating the gesture with another telephone and unobtrusively shoving the wreckage of a typewriter under a nearby cart. He hoped Vain hadn't seen that, since he knew the other man had a positive fetish for typewriters.

"Vain? After we drop that medicine off, could we... I'd like to go see what you guys have done at Sanctuary. We could rest a bit, maybe?"

"I'd like that. Yeah, that's a great idea, Mac. Let's go." Turning, they shuffled out of the darkened lab towards the elevator to the surface.


	8. Pleasure Is Where You Find It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our boys experience magic beans, a fake Ghoul-friend and a real Ghoul-friend, in that order.

Vain and Mac stumbled through the gate at Goodneighbor, completely exhausted but not inclined to sleep. Mac was jittery, almost bouncing up and down from all the Nuka-Cola he had consumed to stay awake, but Vain thought the dark circles under the young sniper's eyes told the real story. Shit, he thought, I was the one that got mauled by a ghoul, but yet he's the one that looks like nine kinds of hell. Upon reflection, maybe it was a good thing there wasn't a mirror handy. As they made their way to Shopkeeper's Row, Vain was astonished to see Daisy's door closed with a sign on it. As he approached, he made out "Back in an hour" in block capitals.

"Hey, KL-E-0, any idea where Daisy..." Vain started, but was promptly interrupted by the robot.

"She's not dead." The Assaultron said that in a tone of mild disgust, as though any living thing had no right to continue existing. "She left ten minutes, 37 seconds ago. I am not her secretary. If you want to buy or sell arms, come in. Otherwise..." The red, unwinking light on the front of her head-equivalent brightened slightly to imitate the color of an assault laser, her equivalent of a glare.

"But..." Mac started in an anxious voice, but Vain touched his arm quickly. He didn't think KL-E-0 would kill potential customers, at least not for such mild annoyance, but this was Goodneighbor, after all.

"Thanks, KL-E-0, I appreciate the help. We will come back later, and yeah, I do have some things to sell. Got any new weapons in stock?" Raising his eyebrows at Mac, he made a face that he hoped implied 'please shut up and play along'. KL-E-0's baleful red light dimmed a bit at the prospect of commerce, her second favorite activity. Mac's face had gone cold and stony, but he nodded after a moment, casting a longing glance at the closed door next to the gun shop. "Meet me at the Third Rail, Mac?"

"Yeah. Sure." The younger man reached out like he would touch Vain's arm, but stopped and walked off in the direction of the bar. After Vain had done enough business with the touchy Assaultron, he made his way to the bar. On his way in, the familiar ghoul bouncer stopped him.

"Hey, buddy... Hancock is looking for you. Said for you to stop in to see him." Expressions were hard to read on ghouls, but Vain thought this one looked a bit nervous.

"Will do, friend. Appreciate you letting me know." The ghoul nodded, clearly relieved to be done with the interaction. He returned to his immobile pose in his tuxedo by the entry to the old subway stop. Vain started to ask if Daisy had come in, but he figured he would see soon enough when he got down to the bar. The sound of Magnolia's voice drifted up the stairs, as always turning a mediocre song into an amazingly haunting piece just with that whiskey-stained voice. As he came in, he noticed a lot of people eyeing him or Mac. Trouble? he wondered. Guess we might want to see Hancock sooner than later, then. Great. He also noticed there was no sign of Daisy.

When Vain got to the bar, Mac turned and smiled at him, clearly a lot calmer and happier than when he left the gun shop. "Got a surprise for you, Boss." He gestured and Vain made out a steaming coffee pot in front of him on the bar, presumably full of coffee. All the military training and brutal experiences in the Commonwealth were barely enough to keep him from grabbing Mac and kissing him right there.

"Oh my god... where did you... is it really coffee? I mean, real coffee?" He reached for the pot, but Charlie grabbed it from behind the bar with an offended _tch-tch_ sound that reminded him so much of Codsworth he had a moment of nostalgia. The robot tilted the pot at a precise angle, and rich, ebony liquid poured into a cup incongruously labeled "World's Best Mom". The smell was unbelievably delicious. This wasn't any instant garbage, either. Even in the close, smoky air of the bar, the strong scent of coffee, good coffee, was overwhelming. Vain wanted to grab that smell and wear it, bathe in it, roll in it like a dog. It had been so long. He picked up the cup and took a reverent sip. Before the war, this would have been a pretty good cup of coffee, maybe something you would get in a nice bistro. Not Jamaican, but maybe Hawaiian, strong, earthy, not a lot of bitterness. Now, though... now it was like finding a beloved friend you had thought was dead walking around, rich and happy. Mac watched him drink, eyes soft and a small smile playing around his lips. Just that expression alone was almost better than the coffee. The danger of kissing him in public was growing exponentially, so he turned to Charlie and said "Did you make this?"

"Aye," came the laconic response, "And a right pain the arse it was too. 'Swhy I charge so much for coffee service." Charge so... how much had Mac paid? Vain put that away for later, but eyed the furtive expression on Mac's face and had a suspicion it was quite a bit.

"Charlie, it's phenomenal. Really. The equal of anything I had before the... before. You've done an amazing job. Thank you from the bottom of my heart." Charlie's expressions might be impenetrable to most, but Vain had experience with both Handy and Gutsy models, and he could recognize when the robot's eyes dilated with pleasure and approval.

"Well! A bit of appreciation never goes amiss, yeah? Glad to see you enjoying it!" A subtle twitch of the dangling arms gave another indicator of pleasure, again reminding Vain of Codsworth. "Since I can see it's a particular favorite of yours, sir, just let me know and I'd be delighted to brew up for you again. Such polite customers are always welcome here." A mechanical snicker. "For a suitable fee, of course." One of the robot's arms plucked up the pot and topped the cup back up, foam swirling on the dark liquid.

"Of course." Vain eyed Mac, who looked away, suddenly acting embarrassed. Good lord, how much _had_ he paid, anyway? 

Taking a sip of the life-giving fluid, he realized he didn't really care beyond wanting to reimburse him. It was worth any amount. Hell, he was tempted to buy Charlie from the owner of the bar just to have this coffee always accessible. He already had one robot. Maybe if he brought Codsworth with him here, he could get Charlie to train him. Or would Codsworth take offense? Maybe... Suddenly, a ghoul clad in a mechanic's outfit staggered over and leaned on his shoulder, blowing harsh whiskey-scented breath in his face. He could feel Mac step away and suspected that he had pulled a pistol, but the drunk ghoul just peered blearily at him and said "You're that new feller! Hancock is lookin' for you."

"Yeah, thanks, I got it." Vain stepped back as the ghoul almost fell over on him, catching himself at the last minute on the bar. Mac's face was cold and dangerous. Violence was getting more likely, Vain worried. Normally it wouldn't be an issue, but not only did he not want to cause trouble in Goodneighbor, the thought of losing access to real, proper coffee after just finding it again was like a knife in the heart.

"Oi!" Charlie shouted at top volume. "Piss off, Edward! You're bothering my customers!" The robot raised his saw blade to eye level for the ghoul and whirled it, making a loud whining noise that called attention to the bartender. Vain noticed the other customers looking up from all over the bar, but he took it as a good sign that nobody was moving away yet... or towards the commotion. Either was equally likely in a place like Goodneighbor. Magnolia kept singing, though her face showed some annoyance at the disruption. "Sorry about that, old bean," he continued to Vain in his normal tones once the drunk ghoul staggered off, "some people can't hold their liquor. Disgraceful if you ask me." All three of Charlie's roving eyes suddenly settled on Vain at once. He felt pinned under their gaze, and a bit uncomfortable. "If Hancock wants you, then you should go. Sooner rather than later, if you, what's the term? Oh yes, if you feel me?"

Vain picked up his cup and respectfully finished the last of the coffee, then nodded. "OK," he said, looking at Mac, whose face had assumed the blank, empty look he was beginning to realize indicated uncertainty, "I guess we'll go see Hancock. Ready, Mac?" A brusque nod was the response. When they left, Vain made a point of saying "Off to see Hancock" to the ghoul at the door, who nodded and looked a bit relieved. Vain wondered just what the hell was going on. They popped around the corner to see if Daisy was back, but the door was still firmly shut. Sighing, Vain walked into the mayor's house-cum-office for the first time since his initial trip to Goodneighbor with Nick. The ghouls below waved them upstairs without even looking up.

"Wow!" came the greeting as they strode into Hancock's living room, seeing the ghoul in his ridiculous Revolutionary War outfit splayed on the couch. "If it isn't my old friend Vaultie Vain! And MacCready tagging along behind as usual." Mac rolled his eyes, but Vain saw his jaw suddenly tense and Mac went almost comically stiff. What the?... Vain suddenly realized that they might actually be in danger. "Heard some interesting stories about you boys, you know." the ghoul continued, looking over at them and taking a hit of Jet. "MacCready, I knew you liked to shoot people, but according to the Rexford folks that ain't the only business you're running. If I'd known that hot body of yours was available, I might have put in a bid myself." Vain felt a wave of fury run through him, but before he could react Mac was already speaking, voice clipped and furious.

"I ain't selling anything but a quick death, you rotted old grave-dodger. I will do some things for free, though. For example, I'd hate for your ugly skull to suddenly develop a ventilation issue late one night, but it might if I hear any crap like that again." Mac glared at the ghoul, and the tension was thick in the room. The two men seemed to be locked in a staring contest, and Vain was in full assault mode, calculating exits and how many henchmen were below that might come up the stairs behind them. Suddenly both Mac and Hancock burst out laughing, the ghoul slapping his knee and raising a puff of dust from the filthy couch. What the fuck, Vain thought, totally confused.

"I knew I liked you, and now I even remember why. Holy shit, grave-dodger, that's a good one." Hancock threw his head back and laughed again, then wiped his eyes. "I know I ain't in any danger from you, though, because I'm the only mayor in the Commonwealth stupid enough to let your sorry ass do business in my town." The ghoul waved languidly at the overstuffed chairs and seats scattered around the room. "Have a seat, take a load off, make yourselves at home. Get you anything? Water, liquor, Jet? Think Iggy brought me some Daytripper if you like that sort of thing." Vain watched as Mac flopped into one of the chairs, but also noted that Mac just looked fully relaxed. Actually, he was balanced on the wooden brace under the seat and could stand in a second, or roll sideways over the arm to be on the floor. Vain thought a smile at himself and did the same. So the game was fake here... fake enemies, fake friends. Typical politician.

"Nah, thanks but I'm good. Maybe Mac wants something?" A head shake was the only response. "We were just at the Third Rail, got your message and came right over. What's up?" Might as well get to business, he thought to himself. Vain suspected the ghoul had been some sort of criminal mastermind before the war, so there was no chance of reading his face even if he didn't look like he had crawled out of an unquiet grave.

"Right to it, huh?" The ghoul pushed back his tricorner hat and lit a cigarette. "Cool, I can dig it. Not everybody likes to sit around and shoot the shit. Fair enough. Word is you boys like to wander into ugly places and make it out again, and I got reconnaissance needs. There's a lot of weird talk coming in about a place called the Pickman Gallery." Hancock took another drag, and let smoke seep out of his ruined lips. "It's Raider territory up there, but they've been quiet. Like, uncomfortable post-coitus quiet?" He glanced over at Mac, who shook a fist threateningly. Snickering, Hancock went on "Just snoop it out and give me the word. Deal?"

"I might be interested, but let's talk money, Hancock. Mac might occasionally do things for free, but I'm not so generous." A snicker came from Mac's chair, but Vain was watching the ghoul. No change on the face or the posture, so clearly money was always in the picture. A momentary nostalgia made Vain wish Smith could have been here to dicker with Hancock; they would have gotten along wonderfully well. Then again, he thought, maybe they would have gotten along entirely too well. A team like that could end up running the whole Commonwealth.

"OK." the ghoul responded drily. "Usual job pays 200, but I like you, so let's push it to 250." 250 caps? Whatever was in Pickman Gallery, Hancock knew enough about it to be scared of it. 250 caps was no normal recon mission. Still, Vain reflected, they'd just been somewhere likely worse than whatever was in Pickman, and done it for free.

"OK, scout out Pickman Gallery. On it." Hancock nodded, unsurprised.

"Cool. Be thorough, okay? I'm not paying for a look-see. Find out what's really going on there."

"Sure would be nice to know what rumors were saying, what we were walking into, but..." Hancock was grinning now, perfect teeth looking incongruous in his ruined face, body slouched back in the couch seat like he didn't have a care in the world. Vain knew what was going on, this was a test to see about some further work. Just another potentially fatal trial run for something even worse. Just like the Army. He glanced over at Mac, who shrugged. "Alright, Hancock. We're in." Vain stood, and Mac did as well. "Maybe after we solve this problem for you, you'll get around to telling us what you really want." That got a rise out of the ghoul. Vain snickered internally as Hancock suddenly leaned forward, then realized he had reacted a second too late to change it.

"Haha, you're a funny guy. You know ol' Hancock is always straight with you." Hancock turned and very obviously gave Mac a once-over, before turning and doing the same to Vain. "Well... mostly straight, though there are exceptions." Vain snorted, even as Mac made a choking noise. "Just what did you boys get up to over at the Rexford, anyway? People wouldn't shut up about it..." A bright pink tongue slid along grotesque withered lips.

Vain decided that he had had enough of this particular subject for good. "Well, people should shut up about it. Pretty fucking quick, too." Vain caught Hancock's black eyes and held them with his gaze, and put his hand on the grip of his pistol. "See, Hancock, my business is like my home. Folks that come in without an invitation are at a real risk of ending up hurt, dead, or otherwise inconvenienced." Hancock stood up immediately, but kept his distance. Vain could tell the ghoul took the threat a lot more seriously than his play fighting with Mac, and Vain really hoped this wouldn't come to violence. "For a place that prides itself on not judging what other people do, folks here sure are nosy as fuck about what other people are doing in their own room. I'd hate for anyone to get hurt because they can't mind their own goddamn business. Wouldn't you?" He sensed Mac move up alongside him, and could almost feel the tension. Vain hoped Hancock got the point. He sort of liked the ghoul, but he didn't trust him as far as he could throw him, and this was a make-or-break moment for his relationship with Goodneighbor. He knew instinctively that Mac wouldn't be able to stand the looks and gossip.

"Yeah. Yeah, I feel you." Hancock finally said, looking down. Vain checked the ghoul's hands for tension, glad to see none. He remembered all too clearly the way Hancock knifed the thug at the entrance on the first trip here with Nick. Hancock was an up close and personal killer, and most dangerous when he was nearby. "You make a good point. It's nobody's business what people do, and I'll make sure the word goes out that flapping lips should be buttoned. We cool?"

"Yeah, Hancock. We're cool." Vain took his hand off the butt of the gun, feeling like he had made his point. "We're gonna run the Gallery for you, and we'll be in touch. We have some errands to run, but shouldn't be too long. Any time constraints?" At the ghoul's grin and headshake, they made their goodbyes and made their way down to the street. Daisy had finally returned, and her door stood wide. Mac practically ran across the street.

"Daisy!" Vain trotted in after the young sniper, grinning at the enthusiasm despite the lack of sleep and everything else. Still, he thought, not every day you get to send a potentially miracle cure home to your sick child. "I found it, Daisy! I got the cure to Duncan's disease." Mac brought out the cloth bundle and unwrapped the purple syringe of Prevent, showing it to the shopkeeper.

"Oh my god! That's wonderful news. It was where Sinclair said?"

"Yeah. I didn't do it alone. My b... Vain here helped me get through Med-Tek." Daisy looked over at Vain shrewdly, and in front of those black eyes he suddenly felt very naked indeed. The old ghoul clearly knew exactly what was going on. From her smirk and the glint in her eye, she seemed to approve. "Now all we need is to get this to Duncan. Can you help?"

"Of course, MacCready, you've saved my behind more than once. It's the least I can do. It's OK, you can trust me. I swear I'll get this cure to Duncan."

Daisy turned and raised one scarred eyebrow at Vain. He realized he was being asked for an opinion, though he was unsure why. "Hey, if MacCready trusts you, that's good enough for me." Daisy laughed at Mac's sudden flush.

"I appreciate that," she rasped. "He's actually not so bad... once you get to know him." She gave him another extremely knowing look. "Which I suspect you have." Mac snorted and whacked the ghoul in the shoulder and she laughed delightedly. "I'll get the medicine on the first caravan headed south. The driver owes me a few favors, and he's reliable. It should arrive at your homestead in no time, MacCready." She cut her eyes slyly at Vain. "Hey, do me a favor, would you? Take care of MacCready for me. He's one of the good ones." Mac's blush could be used to start fires by this point, Vain thought.

"Hey Daisy," Vain said, "how many people live at that farm?" Mac tried to object, but glanced over at Daisy and finally nodded to her inquisitive look.

"About five, last I heard. Why?"

"I'd like to send a care package." Vain handed over 10 stimpaks, some water and food, 100 caps and a Jangles the Moon Monkey toy he had found earlier. "Send this from me, too. Maybe they can use it." Daisy smiled with another knowing look as Mac spluttered.

"Bo... Vain... no, don't... you don't have to... ugh!" Vain laughed at his frustration. He had a chance to help people, and Mac wasn't going to stop him.

"Shut it, Mac. I owe you, remember?" Mac subsided into surly muttering. Daisy seemed to watch the whole exchange with cool indifference, but Vain was quite sure that she was reading the whole context of the conversation. If Hancock ever lost his position as mayor, he suspected very strongly that he knew who the next one would be. He was suddenly seized by an almost irresistible urge to kiss Mac, but he settled for touching his arm. Mac looked up, slightly shocked, but gave him a small, soft smile and the intimacy of that smile took Vain's breath away. Daisy chuckled, but they both ignored her, lost in their own little world for a moment. Vain felt an overwhelming need to just touch the other man, be with him like they were a few days (god, had it only been a few days?) ago. He realized that he had never felt that sort of desire so strongly before. With Nora, it was more like a game than a compulsion. Even with Zell, he was always delighted when they could find time for sex, but he didn't remember feeling this deep, yearning longing just for Zell's touch and taste and smell. When he and Zell were working, they were just working; he didn't look up at random moments and want to touch his hair, or kiss him, or press his nose up against Zell's coat and just inhale. All of that was becoming a dangerous distraction with Mac. Vain realized he was in totally new territory, but whatever it was, he liked it. He wanted more of it. Hell, he needed more of it. "Come on, Mac," he said hoarsely, "let's go. I want to show you my house." 

Mac smiled again, wider this time, and said "OK". Daisy laughed loud and clear, a raucous belly laugh, and the two men looked over at her and realized they had completely forgotten she was present.

"Jesus, you two are adorable." The old ghoul grinned wistfully. Mac hid his face in his hands, but Vain stepped up and put his arm around the other man without even thinking about it. "I haven't felt like that about someone in forever, but I remember what it was like. Enjoy it while you can, boys. I hope everything works out in your favor, I truly do."

"Thanks Daisy," Vain said, since Mac was still clearly embarrassed, "for everything. Let us know if you need anything, and let us know if there's any word, OK?"

"Will do. You boys take care now." With that, they went out of Goodneighbor and started the long, dangerous trip back to Sanctuary Hills. Someone standing at the gate to Goodneighbor would have seen nothing untoward, but heard a voice shouting "_Fifty caps?_ Just for _coffee_?! Really?" in the distance.


	9. A Well-Deserved Rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing fancy, just some shameless PWP smut. Our boys need a breather, right?

Mac knew he was in trouble. It was becoming clear that he was not only well into head over heels territory, but getting deeper and dumber by the day. He slouched along beside Vain, both of them being stealthy and watching the environment for dangers as they moved along the riverside walkway, but Mac found his eyes drawn more and more to the blond beside him. They gave a brief check to the Back Street Apparel building, but their recent purge of the space seemed to be holding; no signs of new raiders moving in. Mac was completely exhausted, and he suspected that Vain was even more tired than he was. The plan was to make it back to Hangman's Alley and spend the night, then head north in the morning, but Mac didn't want to spend the night in the tiny, cramped colony. He hated how there were so many people packed into such a small space. Thoughts of being alone with Vain kept rising unbidden in his mind, alone and... stop it, he thought sternly. Jesus, it was like being fifteen again! Still, maybe he could suggest somewhere else. He really didn't want to say anything, but...

"Hey." Vain's voice was soft, but still carried in the early evening stillness. Mac looked over at him inquisitively.

"So... I know we thought about Hangman's..." Vain looked a little uncomfortable. Was he thinking the same thing? Mac wondered.

"Yeah?"

"I don't... really want to go back there with all those people. Do you?" Mac could have kissed him.

"No, I really don't, Vain. Is there somewhere else we could go?"

"We could go to the Dugout in Diamond City, but given the scandal we caused the last time we rented a hotel room..." Mac could feel himself flushing. God, he was never going to live that down, and it had been Vain making all the noise! Mac had no idea how he would ever go back to Goodneighbor alone if anything happened with Vain; just the stares during their visit earlier had been very uncomfortable. "College square is clear these days, and there's a spot I know there with two beds, if you want..."

"That sounds... amazing. It's secure, right?" Mac wanted to make sure that there was a door, and no open windows or exposed areas. If things went the direction he was hoping, neither he nor Vain were going to be equipped to deal with unexpected visitors. He could feel his cock swelling in his pants, a coil of tension tightening in his groin. He looked over at Vain, who was staring at him hungrily, eyes dark and teeth biting into his lower lip. Mac was close to grabbing him in the middle of the street. A sudden thought came to him. "Wait... what do you mean, clear? I thought College Square and most of Cambridge was a huge ghoul nest. Has been forever, it's a known death trap. What happened?"

"I... well, I cleared it out earlier." Vain looked embarrassed, but Mac thought only the blond would be ashamed of something so ridiculously heroic.

"Alone?! You took on dozens of ghouls at once by yourself?"

"Well, not alone exactly... I had Valentine with me. He helped." Vain ran his hand through his hair and rubbed at the back of his neck, staring off into space. He seemed to have lost focus for a moment, and swayed on his feet.

Vain looked like hell, Mac suddenly realized. Exhausted and filthy, three days of scruff on his face, and still recovering from an almost fatal wound. Only a selfish as... jerk would demand attention from someone in that state, no matter how much he would love to touch him, taste him, feel that smooth skin again... "No. Let's go to the Dugout." Mac said decisively, prompting a surprised and disappointed look from Vain. "I want you to bathe and I want to check those wounds, and I want Doc Sun to take a thorough look at you tomorrow. You need treatment for the stim poisoning, the sooner the better." Vain sighed and shook his head, but Mac knew he wasn't disagreeing with him, just dreading the extra steps and socializing required. Mac put on an innocent look and continued. "I wouldn't mind a bath myself. I'm pretty ripe." Vain cut his eyes over at Mac, understanding crossing his face and a smile growing despite the bags under his eyes. "I'm sure we will feel a lot better once we're clean." Mac cupped the side of Vain's face with his hand and smiled sweetly. "And we just need to remember to be quieter this time." Vain's laugh was like music to Mac's ears, and he headed off with a new spring in his step.

=

Every time they came in the Dugout, Mac was forcibly reminded of what a ridiculous pain in the ass each of the Bobrov brothers were in their own particular way. Loud, stupid, and boastful, Vadim insisted on telling them some long, pointless story about an old woman, three mirelurks and a customized shotgun that made utterly no sense before he would sell them shower tokens. Another half an hour wasted. Then they went to rent a room but Yefim wanted them to take room 2, which was not only directly opposite the door to the bar but also the loudest, least private room in the entire place. For once, Vain seemed too tired to argue, but Mac pulled Yefim aside and had a brief conversation with him about health and safety (or so he told Vain later when asked), and they ended up in a room in the private back corner of the hotel when a much tighter-lipped and slightly ashen-faced Yefim handed over the key. When they got to the room, Mac was gratified to see that there were actually two beds in it, so he wasn't facing another night on the floor. They dropped their packs in the room, locked the door and made their way down the hall to the communal shower area.

The shower used to be lined with some sort of ceramic tile, but at some point the tiles had been broken and removed and the floor was just bare concrete now. A latch had been installed on the swinging door, which Mac promptly fastened. There was a bench off to the side where a stack of threadbare towels were provided, and Vain slowly unbuckled his armor pieces and Pip-Boy and laid them on the bench in a pile, then kicked off his boots. He was stumbling now, and Mac knew he was so tired that he was running on pure stubbornness and adrenaline. No matter how much he wanted, craved, Vain's touch he felt sure at that moment he had chosen correctly. They were better off here than any squat in Cambridge. Vain tried twice to unbutton his Vault suit, but the field repairs they had done to it to make it wearable made the garment even more fiddly than usual. Uncharacteristically defeated, he just stopped trying the button, looking down at it in exhaustion. Without thinking, Mac stepped over and unhooked the button. Vain looked up, and the look in those dark blue eyes hit Mac like a sledgehammer to the forehead. Mac's hands kept going, slowly, unzipping the suit and peeling it down the muscular body, unfastening it at the waist. The site of the horrible gash left by the glowing ghoul on the blond's torso was barely a dimple now thanks to the stims; there might not even be a scar. Mac knelt and peeled the blue fabric down to the floor, waiting for Vain to step out. His eyes were now at groin level, staring at the full pouch of Vain's underwear in front of him, admiring the thin wisp of blond hair trailing down from his taut navel to vanish under the elastic. He reached out and took hold of the waistband and looked up, wordlessly asking permission. Vain was staring down at him hungrily, but just nodded. He slid the thin cotton down, over the patch of coarse dark blond curls, the flaccid but lengthening cock, noticing the curiously darker skin there than the rest of Vain's golden smooth skin, the heavy balls hanging in their pouch, and down over the muscled thighs, the bulging calves... Mac took a gulp of air and felt like his entire body was vibrating. Vain stepped out of them and stood there, gloriously naked. Mac thought he barely looked human... something that beautiful had to be supernatural, some sort of god or spirit, not just a man of flesh and blood. He could smell Vain strongly, and he knew he probably smelled just as strong, but it wasn't offensive because it was Vain. Everything that should have been unpleasant just... wasn't. He didn't know exactly what he wanted, but he knew he wanted it right now.

Finally, Vain spoke. "Your turn," he slurred, voice slightly hoarse, and Mac was startled to realize that he was still fully clothed. He stood up, kicked off his shoes quickly and shrugged off his coat, laying it on the bench. He started to take off his shirt, feeling the usual sense of discomfort at undressing in front of anyone else, but Vain stopped him with a hand on his and said "No. Mine." Mac felt a twinge of panic, but fought it back. This was what Vain wanted, and he was going to give him this if it killed him in the process. He dropped his hands and just stood, feeling awkward as Vain slid his fingers down the flannel shirt, popping each button open one by one. When it was unfastened, he pulled it out of Mac's belt, sliding it over each arm in turn and laying it on top of the coat. The cold, damp air made Mac shiver when it hit his naked chest, but he was also shivering with just how unbelievably erotic this was. This was another first for him; Lucy had never undressed him like this. Cool callused fingers slid over Mac's chest, tracing the nipples, sliding across his abdominals and teasing the edge of his navel. Vain was still only half-hard, probably from being so tired, but Mac was hard as a rock in his pants. Vain looked down and back up, the corners of his mouth rising as his fingers unfastened Mac's jeans. The feeling of them grazing against his abdomen as they worked the fastener open made Mac's cock pulse and twitch. He knelt in front of Mac, taking his turn to slide the fabric down his slender legs and let Mac step out of it. Turning, he laid the pants on the bench and looked back at the obscenely distended pouch of Mac's underwear, cotton cloth doing nothing to disguise the very large erection within. With a soft huff of breath, Vain pressed his lips to Mac's navel, then touched the waistband but looked up for permission first. Mac felt another, stronger twinge of anxiety and he twitched a little, pulling away in spite of himself. He hated the sight of the flash of hurt on Vain's face, but he wasn't able to control his reactions yet. He closed his eyes and breathed in, out, once, twice, then opened his eyes and met Vain's. Without a word, he hooked his thumbs in his waistband and slid his underwear down and stepped out of it, leaving him completely naked in front of someone else for the first time in over four years. Vain looked at him with devouring eyes, like a hungry man looking at his favorite meal.

"Don't... just don't touch my ass, OK?" Mac said softly. "I want you to, but... I don't think I can." Vain nodded, half-lidded eyes understanding.

"It's OK, baby, it's fine, you've done so much, and you're so beautiful, I could look at you forever like this." Oh god, thought Mac, and here was the voice. Vain was so tired he sounded drunk but that voice still grabbed him deep inside and twisted him into a giant, horny knot. Unexpectedly, Vain laid his head against Mac's stomach, ignoring how Mac's cock slid along his jawline, and his eyes fluttered shut. "We should shower, we should... I'm so tired... I'm sorry, I'm just so..." Mac caressed his hair and made shushing noises. He had known Vain was tired, but apparently the other man had just reached the limits of what his body could take. He looked down at his painfully hard cock lying alongside that gorgeous face and laughed, because, he thought, what else could you do?

"I know, Vain. It's fine. Let's get you washed up." Vain whimpered sleepily and nodded, and Mac turned on the water. It was only somewhat warm, but it felt like heaven, and he rubbed the soap into a lather in his hands and washed Vain like a child, slowly rubbing the lather into his arms, chest, rinsing his groin and giving his semi-hard cock a thorough cleaning, his ass, his legs, rubbing soap into that beautiful blond hair and rinsing it clean. Vain stood there, swaying gently, moaning and sighing softly at the comforting sensation of being bathed. Mac washed himself much more efficiently, then got towels from the stack and dried Vain off from head to toe, then himself. Slipping his pants back on, he looked at the Vault suit and back at Vain and sighed. Trying to get someone who was asleep on their feet into that complicated thing was going to be almost impossible. Coming to a quick decision, he just wrapped the largest towel around the other man, opened the door, and threw the clothes over his arm. Grabbing Vain by the arm with his other hand, he said "Come on, let's go," and led him back down the hall to their room. Before he could even get the door closed, Vain was passed out on one of the beds. Mac braced the two packs against the door and laid his pistol beside the other bed on the table, pulled his coat over himself and was asleep before his head hit the mattress.

=

Mac woke up and felt... odd. Warm. With a shock, he realized that at some point in the night Vain had crawled into his bed with him and was sleeping wrapped around him. Naked. The discarded towel lay abandoned on the other bed. What the... Sorry Duncan, but what the fuck? Mac had known he was tired, but had no idea that he was even capable of sleeping through something like that. A life of being a bodyguard, a merc, and being trained to wake up at the slightest sound was now called into question. He felt rested, so they had been asleep for a good while, but the remnants of last night's exhaustion was still shivery inside his bones. Vain's arm was carelessly thrown over Mac's chest and he started to feel that hated sense of confinement but he fought it back, finally leaning to the side and inhaling the scent of Vain's hair. He calmed almost immediately, which was also new. OK, he thought, so I trust him so much that he can calm me down by scent alone... interesting. Didn't know that was possible. Apparently I even trust him so much I don't even notice him getting in bed with me, which is... wow. OK. 

Vain made a sleepy noise and snuggled closer to him, breath huffing into the side of Mac's neck. Even the scar on his face looked smooth and relaxed. The smooth, muscled chest pressing into Mac's arm and side was giving him another problem as well. Just as he was trying to figure out how to shift around to ease the pressure of his boner against his pants, Vain gave a sleepy chuckle and reached down and wrapped his hand around it. Mac's breath blew out sharply. "Mmm... this is an even better way to wake up than last time," came Vain's soft voice as his hand slid slowly up and down the length of Mac's denim-covered erection, "but I still want my kiss." He started to slide down in the bed, kissing and nibbling his way down Mac's collarbones, bracing his arms on either side of Mac's chest so his mouth was directly over him, stopping to lick and bite the tiny, pebbled nipple and bringing a sharp gasp from Mac. "Eventually." Mac wondered again if it was possible to just get so turned on that you passed out; if so, he was well on the way. "Baby?" Another kiss, this time at the edge of the ribcage. "Would you do me a favor?" Lips on the abs. "Please?" Just above the navel.

"Nnngh?" Mac realized that wasn't actually English, and tried again. "Anything." His breath was coming in harsh gasps now.

"I know you promised your son you wouldn't use bad words." No, don't think of Duncan now. Warm, slick tongue sliding into his navel, around it, oh god. "And that's good." Lips sliding along the trail of fuzz below his navel, teasing through the line of hair, up and down and ohhh.... "But when we're in bed, I want you to say those things." Lips then jaw sliding along the line of his erection through the jeans, nuzzling it. "I want to hear them." Hands unbuttoning his jeans, reaching inside, Mac raising up and his pants sliding down, underwear sliding down, oh my god yes. Mac noticed that some part of his mind was keeping up a running commentary of 'back and ass flat against the bed, back protected, safe, Vain here, safe'. He would normally have thought about this more, but got immediately distracted by hot breath on his cock. "Would you do that?"

"Oh! Ohhhkayyyy..." Mac drawled out, stuttering. His brain felt like mush. "I can... uhh!... I can, yeah, do that." Mac looked down to see dark blue eyes staring at him, pupils blown almost black with lust, a wicked smile playing on those sexy lips. Vain's tongue slipped out and slid across the top of his cock, and the whole world went white with the sensation of hot wetness there.

"Do you like it when I do this, baby? Tell me what you want." Mac tried to string words together at Vain's request, but kept getting overcome by the sensation of soft lips and hot tongue sliding across his sensitive cock. He wasn't sure how long he would last like this.

"Your... oh!... your mouth feels good on my cock, Vain, I love it when you... hnn... lick me like that." Just saying these things was shocking and a little embarrassing, but any shame was immediately eliminated by Vain's thrilled look and how his tongue covered the length once, twice and then swirled around the foreskin of Mac's dick. "Oh fuck!" he groaned, and that got another reward in the form of a hand sliding down to cup his balls gently, the other working the shaft in time with the licks at the crown.

Vain pulled his mouth away for a second and said in a matter-of-fact voice "I'm going to try to suck you, baby, but you're fucking huge. Tell me what works and what doesn't." With that, he was back on it but this time, Mac felt Vain's lips wrap around the end and his tongue sliding into his foreskin and then he was sliding inside that hot mouth and it was the most amazing thing he had ever felt.

"That... yes... fuck... that feels so fucking good..." by this point Mac was babbling and knew it. He slid his hand into the blond hair, caressing the back of Vain's head. "God I can feel your tongue even when you're down on it, you're so good at this, I never knew it could... oh my fucking god, Vain..." The blond made a humming noise in pleasure that Mac could feel run up his spine like an explosion. Vain's hand slid in time with his mouth along the section of shaft that didn't fit in his mouth. "Yes, fuck, look up at me, let me see what you're doing." Vain leaned back slightly and his dark eyes rolled up to look at him, and the sight of his cock stretching those gorgeous lips open, those eyes looking at him, made Mac realize that he was already too close to cumming, over the edge without even knowing it. "Gonna..." With that, his orgasm took control of him and threw him around like a dog with a toy. He realized dimly that the sensation had intensified, and looked down to see Vain's mouth forcing down on his dick, the blond's face a furious red as he fought to keep from choking but determined to take it all. "Fuck, Vain, fuck, oh my god, uhh..." The sight of Vain's throat working as he swallowed was enough to make Mac pulse again. As he slowly came down from the rush, gasping for air, his hand played in the blond hair as Vain laid his head on Mac's thigh and smiled up at him. "That was... amazing."

Vain grinned boyishly. "I was surprised by how well I handled this monster, all things considered." His hand trailed along the softening length of Mac's prick, rolling it off to the side and back again. "Guess I haven't forgotten how to do that after all."

"Definitely not forgotten. Oof. Holy shit. Wow." Mac shook his head, sleepy again as his muscles relaxed from the tension of orgasm.

In a precise slither of movement that Mac found impossibly erotic, Vain slid up the bed to lie beside him and wrapped a hand around his own erection, fist pressing into the curls at the base, and started a slow rhythm. "Now I just need to tend to this."

Mac shook his head, and reached out to stop the hand from moving. "Like you said last night... No. Mine." He slid down the bed and lay on his stomach, staring at Vain's cock from inches away. It wasn't as big as his, true, but he had never really thought about how this side of a blowjob worked. He knew today was the day to figure it out, though, especially after what he had just experienced. Suddenly the position he was in was too familiar, and a spike of panic hit him. Nobody is on top of you, he told himself sternly. Nobody is near you except Vain. He quickly got up on all fours, but that didn't work as well, so he lay on his side. Better. Mac glanced at the door to make sure it was still shut and blocked, and of course it was. Glancing back at Vain, he saw that his little attack had not gone unnoticed. Fuck you, panic, he thought, as the blond's face twisted with concern.

"Baby, it's OK, you don't have to do... ohhhhhh god." Vain's soft words were interrupted as Mac's tongue slid out and repeated the actions that his lover had done for him. It tasted... interesting. The skin was just skin, but the drool of precum was slightly bitter and salty, not a taste Mac had ever experienced before, really. He thought he liked it. Especially since it was Vain. He licked again, savoring the taste. Yeah, not bad at all.

"Just help me out... tell me how to do this. It's my first time." With a small grin, Mac slipped his tongue back out and up the tube along the bottom of Vain's cock. He pulled back the foreskin and slid his tongue around the crown, pulling a loud groan from the other man. Mac slid his hand up and down like Vain had done for him, in time with licks and small suckling motions of his tongue and lips. Gauging by the reaction he was getting, it must feel pretty good. Pulling back for a second, he couldn't resist adding "And please don't make another scene like the Rexford!" before sliding his lips back onto the stiff flesh.

A huff of laughter was shocked out of Vain, who said "I'll... ooh... try to be quiet." He bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second. "No promises if you keep doing that, baby. You feel so amazing. Your mouth is so good, you're so gorgeous, god you turn me on so much..." Mac was ready to try a little more, and slid the first inch or two into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, then eased down on it until he felt like his throat was stopping further progress.

"Use your lips to cover your teeth, babe," came the instruction, and Mac realized he should have thought of that. Oops. With a guilty glance upwards, he was reassured to see that Vain's face was still blissed out. "When you're ready, go up and down, yeah, like that, oh so good, that's incredible, slide your hand with it, yeah..." A hand slid into Mac's hair, gently guiding him up and down. He had a moment of anxiety, worried that maybe this would be too much, but no panic came. The flat taste of skin had vanished now, and all he could feel and taste and smell was Vain. This was wonderful. His hand worked up and down, other hand cupping Vain's egg-shaped balls drawn up in their wrinkled sac and teasing the wispy blond hair on the inner sides of his thighs. "Umm... Mac... baby... I think... I think you should pull off if you don't want..." Mac went faster, squeezed a little tighter, determined to give Vain the full experience. The blond forced his arm over his own mouth to stifle the moan that emerged, and Mac could taste hot, bitter liquid pouring into his mouth. More muffled groans came from the head of the bed as he choked without meaning to, drooling cum out onto Vain's belly, but stayed on his cock to ride out the aftershocks. When he pulled off, he swallowed and looked up into a face that expressed so much wonderment and affection he was left breathless. Mac thought he would have done this long ago if he had known that face would be the reward.

He slid back up the bed without Vain's grace, and propped himself up beside the blond. He was a little nervous about kissing him with... well, that... on his breath, but leaned over slowly to give Vain a chance to pull away. Instead of pulling away, he slammed his mouth against Mac, swirling his tongue in and presumably tasting himself in Mac's mouth. Mac felt his own cock twitch and take interest, as though ready for round two, but he held the kiss for long enough to taste his own seed in Vain's mouth as well. Pulling back finally, he said "There's your kiss. I keep my promises. Good morning. Thanks for not getting killed." A drowsy chuckle was the only response.


	10. We've Come A Long Way To Be This Close To Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much ado with shopping, some interesting histories, and the shocking scandals of small town life.
> 
> Note: Kudos and comments are always welcome :) Not sure if people are enjoying this or not without feedback.

After another brief nap, Vain left the room with Mac and was pleasantly surprised to pass through the main room of the Dugout Inn with no odd looks, questions, or catcalling. He had to admit he felt happier than he had felt in... well, years, really. Certainly happier than he had felt since crawling out of that hole in the ground into this horrible new world. He let his eyes drift over to Mac for a moment, but he had his 'business' face on, completely locked down. Despite that, Vain thought there was a subtle glow peeking through the edges; he thought Mac was probably feeling pretty good this morning too. As for himself, Vain knew he was probably glowing like a new bride, and that was fine. 

The pair wandered over to the marketplace, and Vain sat impatiently while Doctor Sun injected him with strange vials of chems, muttered rude comments, and generally acted like a total asshole. Vain had to admit, a lot had changed about the Commonwealth, but it was comforting in an odd way to see that bedside manner hadn't improved one bit in the two hundred plus years since the bombs fell. Doc Sun would fit right in to any emergency room or clinic before the war with no effort on his part. Finally, the cranky physician's diagnostics showed that Vain's liver and kidney functions were approaching normal. After delivering a hair-raising set of warnings about the dangers of not staying hydrated for the next few days, warnings which seemed to bother Mac a lot more than Vain thought they deserved, he charged them almost two hundred caps and sent them on their way. Luckily, Vain was able to trade him chems for the bill rather than paying it in cash thanks to the loot from Med-Tek and several raider dens.

Now, Vain thought, time to trade. "Hey, Myrna, how's it going?" he called to the owner of Diamond City Surplus.

"Oh, it's you." She replied, warily giving Vain the once-over. "You're still you, right? You might have been replaced." She eyed his ripped and repaired Vault suit narrowly.

Vain chuckled in spite of himself. "Please don't start that again. Take a look at what I've got." He pulled out a cloth bag full of Buffout, Jet inhalers and Mentats and her eyes lit up. The more treasures he hauled out of his bag, the more excited she got, and thankfully there were no more wild accusations of being a synth to contend with. At the end of a long haggling session, Myrna didn't have quite enough caps to cover all the items she wanted, and she was obsessed with some pulse mines Vain had found in a weapon storage locker.

"I have to have these," she said fiercely. "Pulse mines are the best way to take out synths! They fry their circuits. Zap!" She threw up her hands in frustration. "Maybe I can pass on the Mentats? No, I need those too... ugh. You have too much good stuff!"

"Tell you what, Myrna," Vain said quietly, looking around for Mac. Luckily he was sitting at Noodle Bar chowing down on Takahashi's finest, well out of earshot. "I'll just give you three pulse mines, and you can owe me a favor. Think of it as my contribution to the war on synths." Vain knew better than to let Mac know that he was giving away even a bobby pin. The mercenary would flip if he knew that valuable items like pulse mines were being given away, but Vain thought what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "But you have to keep this quiet, OK?"

"Quiet as a mouse." Myrna lit up, excitement dropping years from her worried face. "You're a good man. I owe you big. If you need anything, you let me know, I'll find it for you. Cheap or free, depending on what it is." She was practically hopping up and down at the prospect of getting the mines, and Vain felt a warm surge of happiness for making someone else as happy as he felt today. It felt good to actually get Myrna to smile for once.

The rest of the transactions were straightforward. Offloading ammo with Arturo, selling his remaining Jet and Psycho to Solomon, and grabbing a noodle bowl with Mac from Takahashi (a second noodle bowl, in Mac's case). By midafternoon, they were ready to leave. As Vain strolled towards the exit, Mac beside him, Nat called out "Hey mister... if you see Piper, ask her when she's coming back! We have bills to pay."

"Will do, Nat." He wanted to offer to pay, but didn't feel like arguing with Mac over spending money on others. "We're headed up there shortly, I'll tell her." The girl nodded and went back to hawking papers as the two snipers made their way out of the city gates.

=

The trip north was unusually quiet. Cambridge was calm, and they saw no movement as they skirted the edge of Lexington. The only issue was constantly having to stop to piss, since Mac had been forcing water on Vain since they left Diamond City. Night was falling as they reached the Drumlin Diner. Vain said "Let's check in here and make sure everything is OK, we can spend the night over the hill in the Drive-In." Mac just nodded. When they went in, Trudy was leaning on the counter as usual. When she glanced up, instead of greeting Vain like she had before, her eyes narrowed as she looked at Mac.

"Well fuck me," she drawled. "RJ MacCready, still alive and kicking. Come to run me out of this place too?" Vain looked over and saw a look of deep embarrassment on the younger man's face. What the hell was this? He cast an inquisitive glance at Mac, but he wouldn't meet Vain's eyes.

"Trudy," Mac said quietly, "Didn't have any idea I'd see you again. Glad to see you and your boy made it out in one piece. I reckon I owe you an apology." The sniper's face was a portrait of shame.

"An apology?" Trudy scoffed. "Well, now I've heard just about everything. Since when do the Gunners apologize for anything?"

"I'm not with the Gunners any more," Mac said harshly. "Haven't been for a long time. Like I said, what we did to you was messed up, and I apologize. I'm sorry. That's all I've got to say."

"Well," she huffed after a moment of examining Mac's face, "alright. I guess I can let bygones be bygones, if you left the Gunners. I know it wasn't your idea, you were just a grunt. From what I saw, your life was no bed of roses either." Her posture was still rigid with anger, but she folded her arms and leaned back on the counter.

"Do I even want to know?" Vain asked, eyeing each of them in turn. Mac wouldn't look at him but Trudy's eyes flashed angrily.

"Well, sonny-boy here and a couple of his friends ran me out of the house where I grew up near the Mass Pike, where I had my original store. First they sent in this one here to try and sweet talk me into leaving, then when that didn't work they decided I was going one way or another and started taking pot shots at me every time I showed my face. I barely got out with the clothes on my back and Patrick." She cocked a thumb over her shoulder at her son, sitting in his usual spot and staring off into space. "Took me months to scavenge enough stuff together to reopen here." She spat through the glassless window. "Don't get as many customers out here, but at least I don't have people shooting laser rifles at me in my own yard."

"It was my idea to try and talk you into leaving," Mac stated flatly. "Winlock and Barnes just wanted you gone, and they made it clear that dead was fine. They grabbed all your stuff as soon as you ran. They won't bother you again, though. You'll be glad to know they're dead, along with the rest of the Gunners over there." Vain could tell the memories of their visit to Mass Pike Interchange were going back through Mac's mind, and he wished there was some way he could offer comfort without embarrassing the younger man.

"Dead?" She looked stunned for a moment, then eyed Vain shrewdly. "Did you kill them? You did, didn't you, you wonderful bastard! Hot shit, first you take out Wolfgang and that bitch Simone, and now I find out you whacked the whole Gunner group that ran me out of my home! Jesus, boy, I'm gonna have to start paying you a retainer because you're obviously either my bodyguard or my guardian angel. You're the Don't Fuck With Trudy squad all by your little lonesome!" The old woman threw her head back and cackled, and even Patrick gave a little chuckle. Mac grinned in spite of himself. The tension that had filled the room was gone now. "That's the best goddamn news I've had in months. This calls for a drink." She reached under the counter and produced three shot glasses, topping each one up with whiskey. "Drink up, boys." She cut her eyes over to her son, sitting in the floor. "None for you, Patrick, 'til you get off that shit." Her son didn't even look up, just nodded glumly.

Vain took a shot and passed the other to Mac, then said "Cheers" and tossed it back. Holy shit, he grimaced, that was some serious rotgut. Coughing a bit, he felt it burn its way down to his stomach like battery acid. Mac smacked his lips and wheezed as Trudy grinned. Vain wondered where she got it, and idly hoped his settlers weren't brewing it at the Drive-in.

"So," she said, "did you want anything? Store's always open for you, you know that."

"Not tonight, we're headed over to the Drive-In for some rest, you getting along OK with them? Any more problems with theft?" Mac remembered dealing with the settler that had sticky fingers in the shop; that was an awkward conversation, as well as trying to talk Trudy out of shooting the boy on sight. The others voted to throw him out of the settlement, and Vain had no idea where he ended up.

"No, they've been good. Nice to have people nearby that actually shop, as opposed to coming in trying to steal my shit or eat my face off. Cliff and Bart even took out a radscorpion that was trying to set up a nest down at the pond. I don't know what the world's coming to when we get scorps all the way up here." Trudy showed every sign of being ready to settle down to a long evening of gossip, but Vain could feel the effects of travel and one night's sleep wasn't enough to fully eliminate the previous night's exhaustion.

"Good to see you doing well, Trudy. We're going to head across the hill, I'm beat. If you need anything, send word... the Minutemen are always there to help." Vain said. Making their goodbyes, they wandered over to the settlement. After greeting the settlers sitting around the fire pit, they grabbed a room and fell into a thankfully dreamless sleep.

=

Concord was empty, with the only movement a Minuteman patrol in the distance. Vain took a few minutes to point out the things he had described in his story to Mac, like the Museum where Preston had holed up and the giant trench where the deathclaw had been hidden. As they trudged past the security checkpoint at the Red Rocket, one of the Minutemen regulars posted there leaned over the wall and called down "General!" Vain ignored Mac's amused snicker. "Preston's looking for you. Stop by to see him, would you?"

"Will do," Vain responded, not even breaking his stride. Laughing internally, he wondered when is Preston not looking for me? Let me guess, another settlement in trouble, another reason to scamper off across the Commonwealth to god knows where to do god knows what... he shut down that line of thought. People needed help, he could help, that was that. But he and Mac were going to hang out for a few days, take a rest, and spend some quality time together. Memories of Diamond City made him smile involuntarily. He remembered the week of wondering if Mac was serious about being interested in him and chuckled. Guess that had been put to rest if anything had. Mac had made an awful lot of progress in a few short weeks, shocking Vain a bit with how quickly things improved and how good they were. All of them. He glanced over at Mac, and caught his young lover looking back at him with an open, yearning expression, but Mac whipped around as soon as he realized he'd been caught and then turned bright red. Mac was still staring determinedly off into the distance when they crossed the ragged bridge into Sanctuary Hills. Waves and smiles welcomed Vain, though Mac received his share of curious looks.

"Hey Blue! Long time no see. You look good, Commonwealth treating you well?" Piper slouched out of what Sanctuary had turned into the communal house and walked over to Vain and Mac. She hugged Vain close but stepped back and greeted Mac with a perfunctory wave and "Oh, MacCready, always a pleasure". Another person who knew Mac already... interesting. Vain wondered what that was all about; if that was 'a pleasure', he was a mirelurk. He made a mental note to ask Mac later whether there was some history between the two of them. Had Mac somehow managed to piss off everyone in the Commonwealth before meeting Vain or what?

"Hi Piper. How's the fearless reporter of Diamond City getting along in Sanctuary Hills?" Vain asked. "Oh, before I forget, I promised Nat I would tell you that she needs you to come settle up some bills or something. We ran into her in Diamond City a few days ago." He led the group into his ramshackle old house, momentarily saddened as always by the changes since the War. Vain sat in an overstuffed chair set up in the living room, and Mac ghosted in behind him without a word and leaned against the wall next to his chair. Piper flopped on the old ragged sofa across from the chair in a calculated pose, twisting around to look at Vain. Vain wondered how she always got her red leather coat to arrange itself so perfectly around her. Luck or practice? He couldn't help but notice how attractive she was... aesthetically, of course, he corrected himself. She just looks a bit like Nora.

"Yeah, I'll go help her with that. Damn, I thought she knew how to pay all the bills. Oh well." Piper rolled her eyes and grimaced. "But this place... I thought it would be boring here, Blue," she went on, then broke off, giving a curious glance at MacCready. She seemed a bit surprised that he had followed them into the house. Mac leaned against the wall casually, but Vain was surprised to see a slightly stony cast to his face as he stared off into the distance, acting like he was bored. Piper gave him another brief look, but when he gave no indication of noticing she gave a slight toss of her head and returned her focus to Vain. "But these people are nuts. Never a dull moment." She smiled archly and cocked a brow. "You never told me that they were this weird before you sent me here. Makes me wonder what you think of me..." She gave him a mocking look with a smile.

Vain felt confused. "What do you mean, weird? They always seemed pretty calm to me."

Piper crossed her legs and leaned back on the couch. "Well, for one thing, the sexual politics of this place are more complicated than Diamond City ever was, no matter what people said about the Bobrovs. I assume you knew that Sturges was sticking it to Marcy Long on a daily basis?"

Vain was floored. "Wha... are you serious?" Piper rolled her eyes again dramatically. When Vain glanced up at Mac, he saw the bored pose had been dropped. The young sniper's eyebrows were practically in his hairline and Vain wondered if he was going to burst out laughing on the spot.

"Oh so you didn't even know? Come to think of it, you are out of the settlement most of the time. I guess having a local reporter might be useful after all." She fluttered her lashes at Vain and pouted, then laughed throatily. Mac made a loud snorting noise. "So yeah, apparently it's been going on for ages, maybe even since Quincy. Jun acts completely oblivious but I can't believe he doesn't know. I mean, they're pretty obvious - 'Sturges, I need some help in the garden at night' sort of obvious. Meanwhile, poor Preston is obsessed with Sturges, and I mean creepy stalker-level obsessed. He can't be in the same room with him and speak without stuttering, stares at him constantly, and practically drools and undresses him with his eyes when he thinks nobody's looking. It's gotten to the point where anyone but 'Mr. Stoic' Sturges would be uncomfortable. Not trying to scandalize anyone," with a look under her lashes at Vain, "but Mr. Garvey has even been observed pausing his, uh, 'security' rounds, and watching through the window as Sturges gives Marcy her 'help', you know?" She threw back her head and laughed, hair swirling. Vain saw Mac's eyes narrow a bit and determined to get to the bottom of a possible history between these two.

Piper leaned forward conspiratorially. "But here's the best part. Things almost came to a head two nights ago. We're all sitting down to dinner, everything like usual, then all of a sudden Mama Murphy looks up with that flipped out look she gets and just announces to everyone 'Oh Marcy, dear, you look unhappy, but it's gonna be OK. Sturges can fix anything, and he's not done hammerin' you into shape! I've seeeeeeen it.'" Piper's imitation of Mama Murphy's drawling South Boston accent is cruelly accurate. Vain burst out laughing and Mac whooped and shook his head, imagining the scene. Piper snorted. "So we all just sit there stone-faced like 'I can't believe she just said that'. I mean, what do you do? Preston looked like he didn't know whether to die or crawl under the table, you know how he gets. Jun just sat there staring at his plate, Marcy looked like she was about to kill the old bat with her fork, but Sturges just looked up calmly like nothing was happening and said 'Welp, guess I better get to fixin' that water purifier, it ain't gonna fix itself', stood up and left the room." She threw herself backwards into the couch cushions laughing. The two men were giggling and wiping their eyes. Wow, Vain thought, who knew the kind of shenanigans that go on in these settlements when I'm not here?

"Jesus Christ," Vain spluttered. "I literally had no idea any of that was going on. That's..." he waved his hands, trying to find words. "I mean, it's funny, but it's also fucked up. I honestly don't know what to say." He snickered, imagining the awkward dinner scene again in spite of himself.

"So Blue..." Piper leaned forward again. Vain wondered if she knew just how much cleavage she was showing, but figured she must. Interesting. Piper continued, "I guess you didn't know after all. I was really beginning to wonder why you sent me up here with the deviants." She smiled sweetly at him with a coy look. "At least you weren't trying to send me a message... I guess." Vain wasn't honestly sure what to say to that. As he opened his mouth to try to reply, Mac suddenly strolled over from where he stood against the wall and stood behind Vain's chair, leaning forward and brushing a stray lock of blond hair back over Vain's ear. He was surprised, borderline shocked really, but figured he might as well play along with Mac's highly unusual display of affection. Mac then put his hands on Vain's shoulders, rubbing them a little, and leaning forward over the back of the chair. Vain sort of wished he could see Mac's face, but judging from Piper's expression he reconsidered... maybe it was good that he couldn't. Piper's eyes narrowed but then widened. With an expression like she had just been gut punched, she gave a breathy little "... oh!" Standing up abruptly, Piper gave an awkward smile and said "Well, Blue, I'm sure you have plenty of people to talk to, glad we could catch up. Keep me in mind if you go adventuring again, I'd love to get out sometime." She seemed completely flustered, abandoned by her usual aplomb. "Maybe... go see Nat... um... yeah."

"Take care, now." said Mac sardonically. Piper barely looked at him as she whipped around and left, almost shutting her coat in the door.

"Mac, what the hell was that?" Vain asked. "Did you two have some sort of history before this trip?"

"Nope." said MacCready in a curiously flat, uninflected voice. "Only met her once before in Diamond City, barely traded ten words. But what that was, that was effective communication, 'Boss'." Mac refused to make eye contact, but his lips were compressed into the thin line that meant trouble. "I think everyone left that little visit with a lot more clarity than they went in with. And that's what communication is all about." Suddenly looking around with patently exaggerated interest, Mac said "So this is your old house? Give me the tour and let me see how people lived before the War, would you?" Well, Vain thought sourly, guess he thinks that topic is firmly closed.

Vain snorted. "Subtle as always, Mac. You're a real politician, Mr. Mayor." A sideways grin was the only response.


	11. At the Top, There's Nowhere To Go But Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys experience the bliss of small town life, with all its many dysfunctions.

After only a few hours, Mac was beginning to wonder if he had made a serious mistake in suggesting coming to Sanctuary. The place itself was pretty interesting; it was one of the few actual suburbs he had seen that had been finished before the war. All of the houses were free standing, and far too open for life in the Commonwealth. Windows in every room, including windows facing the woods, multiple doorways, no protective walls or courtyards... it was terribly obvious to even a child that these were designed with very different times in mind. The buildings would have been interesting to see, both as curiosities and as windows into an unimaginable past. Mac was used to being surrounded by ruins and artifacts from that past, but this place spoke of the life that was possible then in a way that very few places he had ever seen did. No, the place itself was fine. It was the people that were concerning. Well, more like terrifying. Bad enough that he and Vain were practically greeted at the door by that sleazy reporter shaking her tail, but she was easy enough to warn off. No, the real problem was the others. Everyone here looked at Vain like he was their savior. No matter where they went, everyone had an expression of adoration, and worse, an almost obsessive neediness. It was like Vain was their drug, and they'd all been craving a hit. Ever since they walked across that rickety bridge, Mac had felt like an intruder, like an unbeliever in the shrine of some religion he'd never heard of. In the other settlements they had visited, even Goodneighbor and Diamond City, he had felt jealous of the people who looked at Vain, but at least they looked at him with the same appreciation that Mac did. They saw that body, those muscles, those straight teeth and that impossibly handsome face, and they wanted to touch. He couldn't approve of that for anyone but himself, but he could understand it. Here, it was more like they wanted to feed, to take that goodness and that generosity and that kind heart and just gorge themselves on it until there was nothing left. That didn't make Mac feel jealous, it made him feel sick. 

Vain had gone off after Preston, presumably to settle up whatever business the guard at the Red Rocket had been talking about. While he was gone, Mac felt like the odd man out indeed. He didn't know anyone here (well, except for Piper, if you count "someone I could easily consider shooting in the head since I thought she was annoying even before she started hitting on my boyfriend" as knowing.) Besides, after the story that Piper told them that morning he didn't particularly want to meet any of the other settlers, especially the core crew from Quincy. Even if they didn't all watch Vain like dogs looking at a ribeye, they were clearly broken. Mac got enough quality time with broken inside his own head, thanks very much; he didn't need to spend time around anyone else to scratch that particular itch. Just watching that crazy old lady putter around inside the house, talking to the radio and the furniture with all those beads clacking... wow. Mac realized everyone thought she was some sort of witch, and he halfway believed it himself. There had to be some secret to how someone so clearly weak and useless was still alive at such an advanced age. Eventually he wandered down to the river by the bridge and was trying to skip stones across the water near the running water purifier when he heard an unfamiliar voice behind him. In an instant, Mac realized the engine noise of the purifier had masked the sound of footsteps.

"Hey", came a drawling greeting from the stranger. Mac whirled, hand going to his pistol. A big, musclebound man in a white t shirt and denim overalls was standing there, with a ruggedly handsome face and dark hair slicked up into some sort of pompadour. Despite Mac's clear threat, the man's hand was extended like this was a normal meeting. "I'm Sturges. Don't think we've met yet."

"Uh..." Shi... shoot, Mac thought sourly. So this was the famous Sturges from Piper's story. Taking his hand off his pistol, he gingerly accepted the handshake and shook once, relieved that his hand wasn't crushed in the mechanic's huge, greasy paw. "Hey. I'm MacCready. Came in with Vain, but you probably know that already." He took a closer look at the man. Jesus, this dude was huge. Massive arms and legs, chest like a stone wall, thick neck, back like a super mutant... Mac's opinion of Marcy, whoever she was, went up a notch. If you liked muscle men, Sturges was prime. Not Mac's idea of a good time, but plenty handsome all the same.

"Yep. Vain brings all kinds of folks back with him. He's a good man, always helpin' out." The huge man had a strange accent, Mac realized. He didn't sound like he belonged in the Commonwealth at all. Mac wondered where this guy was from, and how he ended up in Quincy, let alone here. These weren't things you asked strangers, though. "Think I saw him with Preston just now."

"Yeah, he is." Mac tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He wasn't even sure he wanted to mention how he was feeling about this place to Vain, he sure as hell wasn't going to mention it to a stranger. "Some sort of Minutemen business." Sturges nodded calmly, then unslung a pack of tools from one enormous shoulder.

"I figured I'd come down here and take a look at this purifier again. Sure is runnin' noisy. You know anything about machines?" Sturges was rummaging in the bag as he talked, pulling out an assortment of wrenches and screwdrivers and finally a blowtorch.

"No, afraid not. I'm more the shoot 'em in the head type, not the build a turret type." Mac patted his rifle, wondering if there was a point to this excruciatingly awkward conversation. Mac figured it was a good thing for Marcy that she and Sturges had to sneak around with limited time, because the first time she tried to have a serious conversation with him... well, best of luck with that.

"Well, that's a shame." Sturges grunted and opened an access panel in the bottom of the purifier unit, sticking one giant hand inside almost to the elbow and feeling around in there. "For me, I mean. Most people are good at breaking things. I enjoy putting 'em back together." Dark brows knotted. "Huh, feels like there might be a short in this relay, wonder how that happened..." Mac rolled his eyes.

"Well, guess I'll leave you to it then. Good luck fixing it." Mac had clearly chosen the wrong place to come and stand. That was another thing he enjoyed about Vain; they could actually talk about things that made sense, none of this flailing around and making weird, disjointed statements like so many of the settlers seemed to think was normal. He wasn't sure that Sturges even noticed when he walked away, back towards Vain's house. See? Mac thought bitterly. Broken. As he was walking, he saw Vain and a figure in full Minuteman regalia that must be Preston standing side by side. Vain waved, and so Mac waved back and wandered over to them. He didn't want to seem needy like everyone else, but he was bored. Might as well see what was being discussed. 

As he walked up, Preston was saying "So, should I have an assault force assemble near the Castle?" Vain seemed completely intent on what he was saying, but shot Mac a brief glance of welcome, with a smile that warmed him inside.

"Yeah, let's do this." Vain said. The Minuteman gave a grin that glowed like a lighthouse, clearly getting the answer he had wanted. Wait, thought Mac, what now? Castle? Weren't we supposed to be here for a while? He wished Preston would clear out so he could talk to Vain and find out what they were committed to now. You leave this man alone for five minutes and next thing you know, it's off across the world again, he thought sourly. Does the man never take a break? How did he live long enough to meet me? Just the idea of him not living sent a chill up Mac's spine, as it always did. Vain put his hand on Mac's shoulder and said "Preston, this is RJ MacCready, Mac for short. He's been keeping me alive on the road. Best sniper I've ever seen. Mac, this is Preston Garvey, the last of the old Minutemen and the first of the new."

Preston smiled and stuck out his hand, and Mac shook it. "Pleasure to meet you, Mac. Any friend of the General's is a friend of mine." Suddenly Mac remembered that Preston was the one that Piper said was... he hid his snort of laughter in a cough. Good thing Garvey hadn't seen Sturges down at the water purifier... hmm.

"Nice to meet you, Preston. The Minutemen do good work, always glad to help out." Vain cast a surprised but appreciative glance over at Mac, not expecting the endorsement. Mac smiled sweetly. "Just met some fellow named Sturges down at the water purifier, was he one of your Quincy folks?" He carefully didn't look at his boyfriend, who was digging his elbow into Mac's ribs.

"Oh! Yeah... uh, yes. He is. Was he... did he need help?" Preston's dark complexion didn't show his flush, but the sudden prickle of sweat across his forehead showed just how interested Garvey was in this bit of news.

"Yeah," Mac said innocently, "he was all alone down there, might need a hand. I would have helped, but I don't know anything about machinery." Vain cleared his throat loudly, but Mac still refused to make eye contact. Fun was where you found it, after all. Preston saluted to Vain, nodded to Mac, and took off towards the river without another word. Finally Mac turned to Vain, schooling his face to a perfect mask of unconcern. That lasted until he saw the expression on the other man's face, which provoked a loud guffaw.

"You, sir, are an asshole." Vain said. He was trying to glare, but the smirk that kept creeping onto his lips ruined the effect. "I ought to let Sturges beat your ass. If you've seen him, you know that might prove fatal."

"I chatted with him long enough to know that he's about as violent as a sedated brahmin, so as threats go..." Mac trailed off. "But tell me about this latest harebrained scheme you've signed us up for. Where is this Castle?" He noted Vain's flush of embarrassment, never a good sign. How could someone so clever be so gullible at the same time? There was no idea too crazy, no suggestion so insane that Vain wouldn't shout 'Sounds great! Let's do it backwards walking on our hands!' and go try to make it happen.

"You uh... so I guess you heard that." Wow, Vain, try to look a little more excited next time, Mac snorted. "Apparently the Minutemen used to be a really big deal in the Commonwealth. Preston was just telling me that they have a big fort somewhere out east on the water named the Castle, we need to go see if we can get it back up and running." Vain had his 'I'm so believable' face on that he used against merchants and other people when he was bargaining. At one point, it worked like magic on Mac as well, but he had seen this weapon deployed too many times in the past month and a half to be vulnerable to it any longer. 

"Oh, a big fort, nice. Useful. So... what happened to run them out of it? Raiders? Gunners? Latrines just dug too shallow?" Mac was laughing, but not really amused. Vain's earnest look was getting a little patchy around the edges, giving way to irritation. "And what lives there now, since the Commonwealth rarely lets big, useful, empty structures sit around untouched? Mutants? Ghouls? A whole colony of Mama Murphys?" Wow, Mac, there's an image. Sometimes he really had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth until it was already out.

"Jesus, what a terrifying thought. One is trouble enough." Vain laughed in spite of himself, the irritation draining away. "Your head is a weird place, RJ MacCready. We don't know. I intend to do some recon before we go in guns blazing, that's for damn sure. Preston wasn't there when it all went down, before his time. All he knew was some legend about a sea monster, but I seriously doubt Godzilla ate the Castle. Still, it will take Preston some time to round up a team and get them down there. It's not going to interrupt our stay here, if that's your worry."

"That's not really it, and I don't know that I'd call it a worry exactly." Mac blew his breath out and looked around at the landscape. It was bright and peaceful here, he'd give it that, but now that he'd seen it Sanctuary wasn't what he'd thought it would be. "Now that I've seen it, we can stay or not. As long as I'm with you." A soppy grin was his reward for that statement, and Mac was sure his expression was just as soppy. Man, he had it so bad for this guy. "I just don't want to keep running around on these crazy adventures nonstop. I'm terrified of losing the only good thing that's happened to me in years. You've cut it really close twice now, and eventually..."

"Mac." Vain was still wearing the remnants of his happy smile, but his dark blue eyes had a little of that same hardness in them now that he had last seen on the Mass Pike bridge. "Baby. Look. I know you are concerned, but this is how it's going to be, got to be, for a while anyway. I'm the General of the Minutemen. I know you think that's funny," Mac started to protest, but Vain held up a hand to stop him, "but I take it seriously. These people need hope, and if I can give them some, then I'm at least doing something. I have a kid who everyone thinks was stolen by the Institute, and god knows who the fuck they are or where they are or anything. Valentine is working on tracking down the guy he thinks maybe took Shaun, and I'm going to do my level best to track him, get my kid back, and then skullfuck him into the ground like you did to Winlock." Mac felt terror rise up in him, and had to look away from the steely eyes. He felt himself shivering, but tried not to let it show. Vain continued, "Maybe he will kill me. Maybe the Institute will drop a bomb on me. Maybe I'll drown in the river because the bridge fell in, who knows? Maybes will kill you by inches if you let them. I..." Vain looked uncomfortable for a second and swallowed, "I care about you a lot, baby, you know that, but I can't stop living my life. This is what I am, Mac. This is who I am. I'm not going to stop, but I want you there for it if you want to be. I want you beside me every step of the way."

Mac felt his eyes prickle. This was more than he had ever hoped for in life. He didn't really feel worthy of Vain, or anyone, but he wasn't going anywhere. He pushed that nagging sense of insecurity aside as best he could and said "I'm there. That was the bargain, you lead, I follow. I plan on walking this earth with you until the day I die. For once in my life, everything's going right and I have you to thank for it." Vain smiled with relief, and clapped Mac on the shoulder. The contact made him feel jittery and strange, because his panic from earlier was still rolling around inside, but he smiled gamely in return.

=

Dinner that night was just as wretched as Mac had imagined from Piper's story. Piper sat in the corner, uncharacteristically quiet. Marcy and Jun Long sat side by side, staring down at the table and barely speaking to anyone, gulping their food down like someone was going to take it from them. Marcy looked a bit like Myrna in Diamond City; a small harried looking Asian woman, hands rough from working. Jun was clearly a basket case, and Mac figured he wouldn't be alive much longer if he didn't get a grip. Mama Murphy kept up a running commentary, most of which made no sense at all, and some of which was directed at the cutlery, the wall, the table, the food... pretty much anything. Mac thought she was pretty far along into old-people crazy, despite her rumored magic powers. Sturges ate like he did everything else, quietly and deliberately. Mac had never seen anyone chew their food so many times per mouthful. No wonder he's so big, he thought grimly, clearly he's half brahmin. Preston seemed unable to put a sentence together and stared nonstop at Sturges, to the point where he almost missed his mouth with his fork. It was horrible and awkward like only small groups of mismatched people can be.

While this miserable floor show was going on, Vain was trying to get a feel from everyone about how everyone was doing and what needed to be done. Despite his efforts to engage them, though, nobody seemed interested in providing any real information. As soon as they finished eating, the Longs jumped up and bolted out the door, Marcy first and Jun following along behind her like a puppy. Mac couldn't take much more of it, so he stood and said 'Going to smoke' and went outside at Vain's nod. The twilight had settled heavily over the little collection of houses, but the western sky was still streaked with red and orange. Mac realized it was actually pretty out here as he fished for his lighter in the duster's deep pockets. Other than the insects and birds, he could hear the river gurgling in the distance as it flowed along. The hum of a small generator from a nearby house was a comforting counterpoint to the susurrus of running water. In the distance, he saw a kid's play area set up beside the garden plot and he started to amble in that direction with his cigarette. A low, constant mumbling came from the garden plot, and he recognized Marcy's shoes sticking out from under a mutfruit bush where she was clearly doing something with the soil at the base. Not wanting to attract her attention, he wandered in the opposite direction and found a little table with chairs set up in a yard, lantern on it burning softly surrounded by tiny moths. When he went to sit, a figure loomed up suddenly from beside the house and he grabbed for his pistol before he recognized the miserable form of Jun.

"Jesus, buddy, don't jump out at people like that." Mac said shakily. "Good way to end up ventilated."

'I'm sorry,' came the depressed reply. "I just... I need to be alone right now." Jun shuffled his feet.

"How's that working out for you so far?" Mac asked sarcastically. He didn't have a lot of patience for the mope around types.

"W... what?" Jun was clearly appalled. "You don't understand. I had a son... Kyle. We ran the drug store in Quincy. We got out but Kyle didn't... he didn't make it." Jun's face crumpled even further, his misery overwhelming him.

"Yep. A lot of people have lost dear ones these days. I lost my own wife to ferals a few years back. Hell of a world we live in." Mac looked at the other man. Jun was a wreck. Heavy black bags under his eyes, skin breaking out, hair filthy. He was the picture of someone who had given up all hope.

"I'm sorry to hear that. My son was... he was all we had. It should have been me."

"But it wasn't." Mac leaned forward and snapped his fingers, drawing Jun's eyes unwillingly up and towards his. "You need to get a grip, buddy. I don't know you, and you don't have any reason to listen to me, but I'm here to tell you I have at least as much reason as you to sit around and cry until I'm dead. But I don't do that and you shouldn't either." Jun looked like he was about to go into shock.

"But my son..."

"Listen to me, dammit. Your son is dead. And all the sitting around and moping won't bring him back. If you just can't go on, then go eat a bullet. But you'd be a fool if you do. You have a wife, you're still alive, and you've got a chance to pick yourself back up. The more you wander around here looking like a ghost, the more worthless you feel and the worse it's gonna get. Find something to do, take an interest in being alive, and leave the dead to themselves. We'll all be dead soon enough." Mac hadn't meant to get invested in this conversation at all, but he was so tense now his scalp was tingling.

Jun was reeling. Clearly nobody had ever had this talk with him before. A harsh look came over his face, sitting weirdly on the misery lines engraved in from nonstop grieving. "Yeah, I have a wife. Sort of." For the first time, Mac felt awkward. This wasn't his conversation to have, and no matter what the gossip was, he didn't know any of it for himself. No way in hell was he going to weigh in on that.

"Well, I don't know what's going on there and it's none of my business. What I do know is this. You're eating food and drinking water and moping around without being a damn bit of good to anyone, including yourself. Clean yourself up, and then find a task to do, and do it. Do it well. Learn to hunt. Teach yourself to shoot. Become a caravan guard. But do something other than just sit around wishing the world were something it ain't. Because wishing doesn't fix anything. Believe me, I should know." Jun nodded soberly.

"I'll... think about it. Thank you." His shoulders seemed to firm up under his filthy t-shirt. "Thanks." He wandered off. Mac lit a second cigarette and watched him go, shaking his head. People were always amazing. All the misery in the world, and they could fall into their own little piece of it and think they were the only ones with problems. He was shocked to feel a pair of hands on his shoulders from behind, but before he could panic Vain was leaning over him, kissing him.

When they broke apart, Mac was breathless. "Wha... thanks. Wow. What was that for?"

In the flickering light from the oil flame, Vain's eyes were practically glowing with pride and amusement. "For being a good man, Mac."

Embarrassment. "Oh, you uh... you heard that, I take it." He could feel a flush rising in his face. "Sorry, I just..."

"No, don't apologize. You cared enough to tell a stranger something he needed to hear. I think that's very admirable. I'm proud of you." Vain reached out and ran his hand down Mac's arm, playing with his fingers and interlacing their hands together.

Mac thought that if he had ever been told by someone else that they were proud of him before, he didn't remember it. He didn't quite know how he felt, but he knew that his face was probably glowing brighter than the lantern. "I... thanks."

"I think it's about time for bed, don't you?" Mac looked up quickly and saw Vain's face, smiling wickedly. He nodded and stood up so fast he almost stumbled. They made their way back to Vain's house hand in hand, not noticing the figure in a red coat in the doorway of a house watching them go.


	12. Preparing to Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conversations and problems. Some get discovered, some get resolved, and some get introduced. Why are there always problems?

Oh great, Vain thought. Here we go again. He moved through the familiar Mongolian building another time, dead people staring from every room. The fear built in him, but he knew this all too well. The squeaking fan blades, the empty rooms, the staring dead with their gaping mouths... nowhere to go but forward, nothing to do but remember. When he came to the final room, he noticed something different. It was darker this time, and reeked of rot. Something filthy, long dead, flyblown, not a recent kill. On the bed, instead of the wounded Chinese officer, staring back at him was... Mac?

"God!" he burst out of bed, gasping. His heart was pounding, sweat pouring from him, head feeling like nails were being driven into it. In the dim light filtering in from the street lights outside, Mac was visible propped up on one arm, staring in concern from the other bed in the room. Vain was still half-asleep, but had the panic-stricken thought that Mac might actually be dead, he might not really be there. He threw himself over to the other man, clutching him tight around the shoulders. "Are you OK, baby? Oh my god you're OK..." In his rush he ignored the hiss of breath and sudden tension. Vain's hands pawed at him, touching him all over, flesh warm, blood still flowing, soft skin not rotten, not dead, still alive. Delight made him clutch his boyfriend tightly. Mac was pulling back now, cringing. The smaller man was shrinking into a tiny bundle, legs folding in, shoulders drawing up, arms wrapping protectively around himself.

"Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop." came the rising, monotonous sound of Mac's voice, each word getting a little louder, a little more shrill and frantic. Mac trembled under his hands like a baby bird. Suddenly Vain realized where he was and what he was doing. With a sharp gasp he released him and jumped back, putting some space between himself and his boyfriend. The remnants of the panic from the nightmare curdled into shame. Shit. He knew better than to do something like that. After everything Mac had been through, to suddenly jump on him with no warning and start grabbing at him... Mac's anxiety had been getting better, but this sort of midnight assault was the worst thing Vain could possibly have done. Guilt was like a knife in his heart. He was overwhelmed with remorse, but now he couldn't even offer a hug. Mac hunched himself backwards, a small knot of arms and legs pressing his spine against the wall. Vain could hear him still whispering "stop" a few more times after the contact ceased, but now his voice carried less urgency.

"I'm... Jesus baby, I'm so sorry." He held out a hand towards Mac, but the other man's pale blue eyes were pointed towards the floor, not him. His face was closed completely, lips compressed, eyes narrowed and staring into space, cheeks tight. There was no indication he had even heard Vain speak. "Mac, I'm so... I dreamed that you were, it was the dream about the Mongolian camp, but instead of the Chinese officer it was you. On the bed. I'm so sorry, baby, I'm so sorry. I was so scared." His eyes were burning, almost crying now because it was just too much. The fear of the dream, the shame of causing pain to someone he cared for, the shock of the middle of the night awakening. Too much, too much. He wanted to just curl up and hide somewhere. Back before the war, he would have had sheets and quilts, comforters, maybe a duvet, acres of fabric he could roll up in and pretend that he wasn't still alive. Here, none of that. Just a bare mattress, and him. This was the same sick, helpless feeling Vain felt the first time Shaun got ill and he realized that there was absolutely nothing he could do to fix the problem. A slow trickle of tears pooled under his cheek.

Minutes passed slowly, five, ten, with only the sound of Vain's sniffling and Mac's controlled breathing, in and out, rhythmic and deep. Vain was peripherally aware of the gradual unlocking of his boyfriend's tension, the expansion of the legs and arms away from that tiny package of fear-Mac and returning to usual-Mac. Each time Vain thought of his role in inspiring that fear, it was like a punch in the gut and renewed his misery all over again. Finally he heard a deep exhale from the other side of the room and a quiet voice saying "Sh... Dang, I hate that." Mac's voice sounded tired and defeated, but Vain was afraid to open his mouth and make things worse. He didn't even want to look over at his boyfriend from shame. Mac continued "Sorry, Vain. I'm just too broken to handle things like that, I guess. I probably always will be."

"No, I'm so sorry, baby," Vain didn't mean to speak but he couldn't stand Mac taking the blame. "I woke up and I was still half in the dream, but that was a stupid thing to do. I'm so very sorry, I can't even... I..." He was dangerously close to really crying.

"Stop it." Mac's voice was low and harsh. "Every time I freak out, you act like it's your fault, like you did something. You didn't do anything you weren't supposed to, and if I wasn't such a useless pile of sh... crap I wouldn't lock up like that. I see how you look at me, like I'm some fragile thing. Hell, I know I'm fragile. Broken. F... fucking crazy is what I am. You'd probably be better off without me. God knows you deserve better. Hell, even I'd be better off without me." Mac sighed and hung his head. "I knew things were going too good to be true." Mac fumbled in his pockets and fished out a cigarette, flicking his lighter and giving a brief view of his face underlit by flame as he drew on the cigarette to light it, then blew a long stream of smoke to the ceiling.

"But I did do something, Mac." Vain stood up and went and sat on the bed next to the other man, but didn't follow his instinct to reach out and touch. The younger man continued to smoke and made no effort to look at him as he approached. Vain just sat, allowing his shoulder to press against Mac's, close but unthreatening. "I fucking attacked you in the middle of the night like an idiot because I had a bad dream." He took a deep breath in and released it in a shuddering gust. "And I'm sorry. So sorry. I knew better than that." Mac snorted humorlessly and still refused to look up, but at least he didn't pull away. "You're not crazy. And I would be so much worse off without you that I don't know how you could say that. For one thing I'd already be dead twice over. And even if I was alive, I'd be fucking miserable. You make me happy." Mac finally looked over at him, an expression of disbelief on his face. Vain smiled weakly, knowing that his tear-streaked face told the story of his concern clearer than his words. "I don't deserve you; I wish I could show you what I see when I look at you. How fucking gorgeous you are, what a good man you are, how you shame me every day with how brave you are. And I'd rather cut off my leg than hurt you." Mac was grinning now in spite of himself, shaking his head softly.

"You are without a doubt the biggest bulls... crap artist I have ever met." The younger man snickered. "You're worse than Hancock, and I never thought I'd say that about anybody." His hand came up and cupped Vain's face. His thumb gently wiped at the salty marks on Vain's face. "I hate that anything I did made you cry."

"No bullshit, baby. I've never been more truthful in my life." Vain leaned over gently, giving Mac a chance to pull back if he wanted. After a panic attack touch was always iffy. There was no retreat, though, and soon his lips met Mac's cheek. Quick enough, the other man tilted his head and their lips met and pressed together. The touch and scent of Mac caused a sudden wave of lust to sweep through Vain, but he knew that wasn't what was needed. Nor would it be welcome right now, more than likely. "Can we... lie down together for a while? Would that be OK?" Mac seemed to think for a second but then lay back, arranging himself flat on his back on the bed, and pulled Vain towards him. He draped himself over the smaller man slowly, watching to make sure each intrusion into his space was accepted. Mac surprised him when he spoke.

"See, this is what I mean, that makes me nuts. You're watching me like I might explode or break. What am I, a greenie with a nuke? When you start with the super slow movements and the staring at me, it freaks me out. If I feel like you're expecting me to panic, I start to worry that maybe I am about to panic, and then I can panic from being afraid of panicking. Just get over here and cuddle up to me and stop f... freaking worrying about me. If I have a problem, I'll try to deal with it. But stop acting like I'm a sick toddler." Vain felt like he'd been struck by lightning. Oh Jesus, he thought, with the sudden realization of how his concern had looked from the other side. I guess maybe I suck at this more than I thought. He made an effort to just move around normally, like he would have cuddled with Zell, and Mac sighed. "Yeah. There we go."

"I'm sorry, I didn't..."

"Shut up and stop apologizing." Vain could feel Mac's glare even without looking at his face. He just nodded where his face was pressed into the other man's shoulder. Mac leaned over slightly and snuffled; Vain realized that his boyfriend was kissing the top of his head and sniffing his hair. He felt a little bit of tension leave Mac's body, and a warm feeling flooded through him, drowsy and contented. He remembered waking up cuddled up against Mac like this in the Dugout Inn a few nights before. Damn, he thought, I could definitely get used to this. I just wish we had quilts so we could be wearing a little less clothing. Maybe we could... 

=

"Good morning, Sir!" came Codsworth's chipper voice as the door was flung open. "How delightful to have you home again! I have taken the liberty of preparing your coffee and... oh good heavens!" Vain woke with a start and felt Mac jolt awake beneath him as well. The robot came bursting into the room, humming softly, and then stopped abruptly. All three robotic eyes were fixed on the bed, where the two men were trying to untangle themselves without much success. "Ahem!" Codsworth was clearly at a loss for words, but then seemed to rally himself. "I was unaware that Sir was entertaining... visitors." For much of the previous evening, Vain had a nagging suspicion that he was forgetting something, and now he realized that 'something' was to introduce Codsworth to Mac and give a (possibly very awkward) explanation about the state of things. He was also impressed with just how judgmental a robot with no human characteristics could manage to look. The way his eyestalks were tilted left no doubt as to the robot's current level of disapproval.

"Oh, Codsworth! Um, Yes, uh, good morning. Coffee would be fine. Very good. Please also get a Nuka Cola for my guest." Vain was completely flustered, and a snicker from behind him was Mac's only response. "I will... uh..." Codsworth's three eyes stayed resolutely focused on him, but not a word was forthcoming. "I will make introductions after we've, um, gotten up. Yes." This was the first time he could remember feeling embarrassed in front of a robot, but Vain was having definite flashbacks to high school when his mother caught him making out with his girlfriend.

"Very good, Sir." Codsworth's reply could have been marketed as an air conditioning unit, it was so chilly. Without another sound, the robot left the room, shutting the door a bit more forcefully than usual. Mac's laughter filled the room as soon as the door had closed. Vain suspected that he had taken over Mac's usual job of blushing, and from the heat of his face he was probably doing a passable job of it.

"Some pretty fancy help you've got, 'Boss'," Mac chuckled, "pretty snippy, too. Don't think he appreciated me being your pillow one bit. Guess you really don't bring many people home, do you?"

"Mac!" This wasn't helping the blush at all. "I keep telling you, other than Nora and Zell, I haven't been with anybody that isn't in this room for at least seven years... well, plus two hundred and whatever." Vain ran his hands through his hair and was surprised but pleased to feel Mac's hands on his shoulders, then in his hair, pulling it back and arranging it properly. The other man's arms slid around him from behind and gave him a warm hug, one of the first spontaneous displays of affection he remembered ever receiving from Mac. Whether the other man realized it or not, he really was making a lot of progress. "I'm going to try to talk Codsworth into accepting you without having to change his programming. I don't know if it's even possible. When we first got him, Nora and I had to put him in Maintenance Mode and define our identities as primary owners, so his obedience subroutines would be directed to us. Then again to activate the child-rearing module for Shaun." Mac was unusually quiet, and Vain realized how bizarre this must sound to someone raised in this time. "But so much has happened since then... maybe it's silly and sentimental of me, but I almost feel like he's a person now, not just a robot, so I hate the idea of treating him like a mindless machine and just forcing him to accept someone." Assuming that it would even work, Vain mused. It has been over two hundred years, and he doubted General Atomics had planned their designs with such extended timelines in mind.

"And you hate to remove Nora. I get it." came the murmur from behind him. Mac's lips pressed against the side of Vain's face gently from behind, then kissed his ear. "I wouldn't want to do that either, if it was Lucy. It's your robot, do what you want." Vain felt a warmth in his heart. Sometimes Mac understood him better than he understood himself. He snuggled back into the arms holding him and just felt happy for a moment.

"You're wonderful." Mac laughed softly, and Vain wished his boyfriend would believe him when he said it. After another lingering kiss, he said "Let's get up and go have an awkward conversation with a robot."

As they came out into the common room, a piping hot cup of coffee was steaming on the counter. Vain felt a brief flash of sadness that it wasn't coffee like he got in the Third Rail, but still... any coffee was better than no coffee. Codsworth had opened a Nuka Cola, and it was set to one side. As soon as they stepped into the room, Codsworth focused two eyes on Vain and passed him the cup of coffee saying brusquely, "Your coffee, Sir." No mention was made of the bottle of cola and Vain felt a flash of irritation. Please don't be sulky, he wished idly. Work with me, pal.

"Thanks Codsworth." Vain sipped the coffee and it was, well, it was instant coffee. "Codsworth, this is RJ MacCready, also known as Mac. Mac and I have been traveling together and he's been very helpful and saved my life several times. Mac, this is Codsworth, my Mr. Handy domestic and also my friend since before the war." Mac extended his hand and shook the limply proffered robotic claw solemnly, like this was the most normal interaction in the world. Rolling his eyes, Vain picked up the soda himself and passed it to Mac who took it with a grin.

"Charmed, I'm sure." said Codsworth in a dismissive tone. Turning back to Vain, he said "Sir, it isn't my place to say anything of course, but I can't believe that the Missus would appreciate..."

Vain suddenly felt irritated. "Codsworth, Nora is dead." Mac looked between the two of them, nodded once, and just walked out the door without a word. Vain was irritated with him as well for a second before realizing that it was probably best. "She's not coming back. I don't know what sort of reaction you are having to perceived infidelity, but it's not appropriate for this." He thought for a moment. "Owner 2 will not be returning," he ventured, on the off chance that this would make a difference in how the information was processed.

"I... Oh Sir, I know she... oh dear." Codsworth stuttered in the air a moment, all of his tentacles shivering at once. The eyes swung around once on their stalks, and Codsworth refocused on him. "I know, Sir. And I am deeply sorry. You will find young Shaun, though, I know you will. I apologize if I seemed a bit harsh, earlier. Mr. MacCready's presence was unexpected."

"I know Codsworth, and I should have introduced him as a guest before you had occasion to meet in, uh, that way. But I want to talk to you about something." Well, here goes, he thought sourly. I really hope this works. "Mac is, well, he's a good friend. And we're getting... closer with each other, and..." God, Vain snorted at himself, you can't even speak plainly to a robot about this? Pathetic. Get a fucking grip on yourself. "OK, Codsworth, Mac and I are dating and sleeping together. I would ask that you treat him with the same courtesy and at the same permission levels that you would treat me, or Nora. If you would prefer, I can put you in Maintenance Mode and configure it, but I wanted to see if you would be willing to make the change voluntarily."

Codsworth floated quietly, eyes looking around and at each other. The sound of his gears whirring and the roaring of his propulsion jet was loud in the silence. Vain had no idea what thoughts were going through his mechanical mind, but waited patiently. After almost a minute, the robot spoke in an unusually hesitant voice, "Sir... just to clarify... you're giving... me... the option to choose... whether or not you put me in Maintenance Mode and make changes? R-really?" He hummed for a moment. Vain nodded earnestly. "Honestly, I don't know what to say. Such a level of trust is... unprecedented. I know that you had said at one point that you considered me as family, but I hadn't realized..." Codsworth shook himself again, then spoke in a brisk tone, sounding more like his usual voice. "Well. Not another word. Of course, the Missus is gone. There is no trace of impropriety. If you and Mr. MacCready wish to form a family bond, I will certainly treat him as family as well." Codsworth floated closer and extended one hesitant tentacle, resting his claw lightly on Vain's shoulder. "Sir. That you asked me rather than simply assuming it would be fine; I can't tell you how much that means to me. You have always been my owner, but you proved with this that you are truly a friend to me. I value that most highly. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart."

"You're welcome, Codsworth. And yes, you are my friend. Never forget that." Vain was overwhelmed. He had never hoped that this might work out so well, and now he had all the proof he could ever desire that Codsworth truly possessed self-awareness, rather than clever programming.

"I shan't forget anything about this moment, Sir. Of that you can be sure." Codsworth made a little tootling sound that Vain had only heard in situations of great happiness before, like Shaun's birth announcement. The robot then flew off, and Vain went to see what had become of Mac.

No sooner had Vain come outside than he saw Sturges walking along in front of the house, bag of tools slung over one huge musclebound shoulder. He waved, figuring the handyman was on his way somewhere else, but to his surprise Sturges came over to chat.

"Hey," came the drawled greeting. "How's it goin'?"

"Hey Sturges. Good, slept in later than I expected, but it's not often you get to sleep somewhere you feel safe. What's going on today?" Vain wondered what this was about; Sturges didn't talk to him very often.

"Oh, you know, the usual... everything breaks faster than I can keep fixin' it." Sturges looked away awkwardly. "So, uh, I seen Preston headed out. Is he gonna be gone for a while?"

Vain suddenly felt like turning around and going back in the house. Oh, he thought, that's what this is about. "Yeah... so he's working on a big project for me, got to round up some people and try to get a strike team together. You guys aren't going to be seeing much of him for," he caught Sturges' eye to make the point, putting a little extra emphasis on the words "quite some time." Sturges sigh of relief was quiet but audible. "I figured that wouldn't be a problem. Figured you guys could keep an eye on things, right?"

Sturges grinned, picking up fairly quickly on what was being said, but all he responded was "Preston is a good man. He's done a lot for us. We'll manage without him around, though." The big mechanic's face softened for a moment, and he said "I hope he finds something to make him happy."

"I hope so too, Sturges." Vain realized, not for the first time, that a lot of the big mechanic's stupid act was just an act. He was a lot smarter than people realized. "I'm going to try to find something productive for him to focus on."

"That's good." Sturges said, and shouldered his toolbag again from where he had set it down. "I better get to fixin' this stuff, it ain't gonna fix itself." He caught Vain's eye for a minute and said "And I appreciate it."

"Thought you might." was Vain's reply, and with a half-smile Sturges walked off in the direction of the gatehouse. He thought about Mac that first day saying 'what that was, that was effective communication' and Sturges paused at the sound of Vain's burst of laughter, but didn't turn around. After a moment, he kept walking, leaving Vain to pull himself together.

= 

Within a couple of days, Vain was ready to go meet Preston at the Castle. Despite the rocky start to their relationship, Codsworth had practically adopted Mac by the end of the week. Unfortunately, Mac had been bored since the second day, and had begun what Vain considered a very unattractive habit of making fun of the other people in the settlement. No matter how much or how strongly he hinted that he didn't appreciate it, once even asking him point blank to stop, Mac kept laughing about how needy they acted and how they all seemed to consider Vain some sort of combination messiah/errand boy. Vain figured it was time to get him back on the road, though sleeping (and everything else) with Mac was a lot better in a bed in a safe place than some filthy hovel or doss out in the wastes.

To Vain's shock, as they were preparing to leave, Jun Long came over. 

"Excuse me... Vain, could I talk to you for a second?" He barely recognized the other man; his hair was washed, his skin was clearer, and he had finally changed his clothes and put on clean road leathers instead of the filthy torn t-shirt and jeans he had been wearing since he arrived. He still looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept, but he was at least trying. Vain thought that was a very promising sign. 

"Sure, Jun, what's on your mind?" Mac was standing nearby acting disinterested, but Vain knew him well enough by now to know that his attention was completely focused on what was going on here. Interesting.

"I... uh..." Jun looked lost for a moment, and Vain worried that he was about to start talking about his son again. Amazingly enough, Jun's face firmed up again immediately and he said "I want to talk to you about a job. I'm tired of not pulling my weight around here. I'd like to run a trade route if you've got one you want me to take." He looked worried for a moment, but Vain was stunned that he had gotten up the nerve to ask. "I mean, if not, I guess I can..."

"Perfect." Vain cut him off. "I actually do have one I want you to take. I want to send Lydia to Taffington Boathouse, now that it's clear. That's a hard run, but I'd like you to take her old run back and forth to the Starlight Drive-In. Do you think you could handle that?"

"I... yeah! Yes. I mean, I do." Jun almost... smiled? Amazing, thought Vain, I never thought I would see that day come. "I'd like to talk to her, get the best routes and how to be safe, but yes. I'd like that. Very much." Jun glanced over at Mac and back again, almost too fast to catch. He went on, "I need to find something to do other than sitting around wishing things were different." Vain nodded.

"Jun, I'm glad to hear you say that. I think you'll be great at this. And remember, Starlight is an important outpost. I'm counting on you." Vain figured it wouldn't hurt to lay it on a little thick; the other man was just coming out of the dark places in his own mind, he needed all the help he could get.

Jun swelled visibly. "I know. You can count on me." He glanced at Mac again, and Vain was quick enough to catch the swift thumbs up that Mac gave him. Aha, he thought. Looks like I wasn't around for all the counseling sessions. Whatever I did to deserve RJ MacCready, I'm one lucky guy.


	13. A Broken Road to a Broken Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys go to the Castle but a lot happens along the way. Insecurities are a bitch.
> 
> Authors Note: Sorry this is so long, but a lot needed to happen. The next installment is probably going to be longish too, because these guys are high-maintenance, what can I say.

Mac wasn't sure where the Minutemen's Castle was supposed to be, but given Vain's planned travel route it might as well be somewhere in what used to be Canada. He and Vain left Sanctuary at midmorning when the sun was already well risen, waving to the few people out and about and making a slow and twisting track through the Commonwealth. The plan was to visit a line of northerly settlements along the way. The military surplus junkyard was thankfully empty, as was Listening Post Olivia (despite Mac's fears). Old military bases rarely remained empty and unoccupied, even this far north. Besides, the giant dishes that loomed overhead always made him uneasy. As a sniper he was all too aware of the potential of something that high to be the source of an unexpected high-velocity bullet. As they headed into the woods towards Tenpines Bluff, he gave a sigh of relief. 

Mac thought Tenpines was probably the worst settlement in the history of the Commonwealth. Mac was unsure what made Shaver and his sister settle here, but despite the apparently fertile ground he couldn't imagine a worse place to build a settlement. Despite being on a hill, the farm itself was inset into the hill, so the uphill direction was both wooded and obscured by banks of earth and roots. The downhill side was open, but also wooded and rocky so there was plenty of cover for anyone coming up the hill. The tiny shack that Shaver and Lil had built had no windows, and the door opened directly onto the hillside. The whole place was basically a deathtrap. Mac wondered if these two were runaway synths - they certainly didn't seem to have any idea of how to survive, build a defensible location or do anything other than farm. He knew 10 year olds with more common sense. After Vain hacked together another yet another turret to replace the latest one they had lost to raiders, the two headed across the old tracks towards Outpost Zimonja. This place was some sort of radio array originally, but now it was just a few dusty shacks and a scrap wall where a few settlers were trying to scratch a living out of the dusty soil. Once they arrived the first item of business was refilling their water bottles at the pump. Before Vain got entangled with the local politics, Mac figured it was worth discussing how untenable the situation was back on the hillside.

"Hey Vain," Mac began, "have you ever mentioned to Shaver that if they would just move..."

"Not having this conversation right now." Vain interrupted, looking around at the workers from Zimonja who were crowding in towards the Minutemen General from their labor in the fields nearby. They weren't even pretending not to listen; Mac thought some of them might as well have ears as big as the dishes from Olivia. Mac was embarrassed, but also felt a flash of irritation at being dismissed so brusquely by someone who was supposed to care about him.

"Fine, fine. What would I know anyway?" Mac muttered. "I'm just the hired help, right, boss?" He ignored Vain's brief flash of hurt, wandering very pointedly outside the gate on the far side of the settlement and taking a seat on a crate set there. His boyfriend was trapped by the settlers, so no danger of him following immediately. He lit a cigarette and watched the horizon contemplatively as he smoked. As usual, he thought with disgust, everyone brings Vain all their problems. There aren't enough beds, there isn't enough water, we need more crops, whine whine whine. Please sir, we can't possibly do anything for ourselves, we forgot how to think if we ever knew, once you're done running errands could you please come wipe my ass for me? Mac couldn't even imagine how these settlers lived long enough to get to this remote location since they seemed incapable of doing anything beyond using a hoe and finding a bed. He knew that Vain was trying to help these people, but encouraging this level of dependence wasn't doing them any good. If anything it was the exact opposite. This wasn't the first time he had seen it, either... growing up in the Capital Wasteland, this was how people were with the Brotherhood. Once they got used to relying on someone else, they would put up with any level of oppression to avoid having to rely on themselves again. Pretty soon they would need rescuing all over again, this time from the new overlord who 'saved' them from the old one. He finished his cigarette and lit a second one after a few minutes.

"Mind telling me what that was about?" came Vain's voice, sounding a little hurt and exasperated. The blond came around the corner of the gate, pack slung carelessly from one shoulder. He dropped the pack immediately, looking Mac in the face. Even with the scar, Mac couldn't get over how ridiculously handsome the other man was, even when he was dirty and disheveled from the road. Half of him wanted to put aside being mad and just reach out and touch the blond's chest, run a hand over that blue jumpsuit and the muscles it covered, but the other half won out by a thin margin.

"About? Why should it be about anything?" Handsome or not, Mac felt his irritation with Vain rise again. "Just trying to express an opinion, but clearly I don't get to have one. Fair enough, let's get a move on. Got a long way to go to get to County Crossing for the night." He knew he was being unfair, but he couldn't help it. These people always had first claim on Vain, and he knew that. He wasn't jealous, of course not. He just wished they could be back in Sanctuary... back in Vain's bed, where warm, tanned skin and sweet words and strong arms made everything seem possible. But instead they were here, out in the wilds, helping the helpless on their way to run yet another errand for more people who didn't care enough to solve their own problems.

"Mac..." Vain sighed with frustration, running his hands through his hair so that it was even more disarrayed. "Of course you get to have an opinion. You know how easy it is for gossip to get started, though. Tenpines is right next door. I didn't want word to get back to Shaver and Lil that we were talking about them." Dark blue eyes met lighter blue ones. "I'm sorry if I..."

"No," Mac cut him off sharply. "I get it. Sorry if I overstepped. Probably wasn't a good place to talk, you're right. Let's go." Mac said tonelessly, flicking his cigarette butt expertly into a dusty area with nothing that could burn and squashing it out with his toe. Without another word, he picked up his pack and rifle and headed off.

Vain sighed deeply and rolled his eyes in spite of himself. With a muttered "Babe...", he quickly grabbed his own gear to follow the stiff back of the smaller man stalking off into the distance.

=

As twilight faded into true darkness, the pair staggered through the last of the underbrush towards the light of the bonfire. County Crossing kept a fire going as an earthly lighthouse for traders, Mac knew, and they did a good business because of it. Even in Goodneighbor, Daisy often commented on caravans coming or going by 'Double-C' as the traders called it. The guard at the gate called out "General!" as they came in, and settlers looked up from wherever they were sitting or standing, and crowded around. Mac had never really gotten over his bad mood from earlier, and this fresh display of neediness brought a corresponding wave of irritation in him. He had rebuffed Vain's few attempts at small talk during the walk so there was no conversation for the settlers to interrupt. The sniper just glared at the people crowding around, grunted, and went to the leader of the outpost to ask where to put the 'General's' gear. At the headman's guidance, he carried it into the small shack that offered the only privacy in the compound; the leader was giving up his own quarters to the General and his 'travel companion'. Mac took the two water bottles and refilled them, then went into the ramshackle dwelling, stripped down and crawled into bed. Of course, lying there in the dark in a bad mood, sleep refused to come. When Vain came in, cursing at the unexpected darkness, he just turned to the wall as the other man lit the candle by the door.

"Mac... what the hell is wrong?" Vain asked plaintively. Mac pretended to be asleep. "Baby, what are you so mad about?" The younger man lay facing the wall and didn't move, but Vain continued "I know you're not asleep, I just saw you turn over. Talk to me. You know I hate this silent treatment shit." The blond took off his armor, then came over and sat on the side of Mac's bunk. His hand slipped out and ran up the younger man's side along his ribs, bringing goosebumps in the wake of the slow caress. "This isn't like the Mac I know..." Vain leaned in and pressed a kiss to Mac's naked shoulder, tongue flicking out to taste the salty skin. Now this, Mac thought grumpily, is not fighting fair at all. His underwear seemed to be shrinking by the second. Vain's lips slid along his neck to his ear and nibbled at the lobe, hot breath sighing across the nape and stirring the short hairs there. "The Mac I know is friendly, he doesn't just lay there." Now there was a teasing tone to the voice. Suddenly the register of the words dropped and Vain deployed his secret weapon. "Baby, you know I want you, you know how sexy you look lying there, just look at you, can't I get you to come out and play?" A low grunt came from Mac as he fought the urge to moan. In spite of himself, he twisted around to look and saw his boyfriend's face right over where his shoulder had been, smirking lips soft and red, dark blue eyes almost black with lust in the flickering candlelight. Vain's tongue slid slowly along his lower lip making it glisten, and Mac was quite certain that the other man knew exactly what that sight did to the pit of his stomach.

"Ugh. God I hate you so much." Mac said as he leaned in, ignoring Vain's pretend-offense completely to press his lips to the column of the blond's throat before tickling it with his goatee. "It's not fair for you to be this sexy." A gasp was his reward. "And using that voice against me." He bit softly at the smooth throat, and then a little harder at the sharp inhale and sigh. The days they spent in Sanctuary had taught him a lot about Vain's responses and preferences, and he wasn't afraid to use it. "Shameless." Leaning up to slide his tongue along Vain's scar and then press his lips to the skin near Vain's ear, he whispered "Fucking shameless." and Vain moaned for real and fell onto the bed. Mac snorted and slid out of the way, then unhooked the button on the Vaultsuit and worked the zipper, started pushing it down, biting at the join of the blond's neck and shoulder as he did so. The sound of the short, sharp whimpers coming from his boyfriend told him all he needed to know. Usually he wasn't interested in leaving marks, but maybe this time he would. He pressed his teeth into the soft skin, sucking and biting at side of the other man's throat. Vain thrashed like a landed fish, hands grabbing Mac's shoulders so hard he felt a twinge of panic before forcing it away.

He knew how Vain liked to hear him talk dirty too. Mac figured two could play at this manipulate the other with sex game. He slid his hands down to press against Vain's groin with one hand, groping his ass with the other. "I want to see you with your lips around my cock, baby. Will you do that?" Vain gasped and writhed, eyes squeezed shut, but then whined and nodded, breath coming in pants. "Do you want that?" Stronger nodding, and a whispered 'yes', so soft as to be almost inaudible. Now this was a change of pace, Mac noted in amazement, Vain without words and him talking trash. You just never knew what was going to happen. "Put your lips on it, let me see you." Vain opened his eyes and with an almost wondering expression, slid down the bed to grope at Mac's cock through the underwear, then slipped his cotton briefs off. His cock slapped against his belly, skin covered head extending up past his navel, and Vain grabbed hold of it and slid his lips over the end. As he slid his tongue inside the foreskin, Mac felt the hot wetness almost like fire along his nerves. The blond's eyes raised and met Mac's stare as he slid another few inches into his mouth, sucking and sliding his tongue along the ridged bottom. Mac's hands tangled in the blond strands. He knew better than to look down, the sight of Vain with his lips stretched out around his cock always made him cum faster than he meant to, but he wasn't able to resist the urge, the need, to watch at the same time. "You look so beautiful like that," Mac whispered, "so fucking beautiful, I love seeing you with my cock in your mouth, you feel so fucking good, you know just how to make me feel good..." He wasn't going to last long, certainly not with this vision in front of him, red lips wrapped obscenely around his flesh, eyes so warm and laughing staring up at him, oh god... Mac groaned as he felt the tension that had been building release suddenly. Vain was choking, swallowing, still sliding up and down as Mac's cock went from extreme pleasure to hypersensitive in seconds. "Gaaaahhh... stop, stop, stop..." he pulled himself roughly away to the sound of Vain snickering. "Asshole."

"Oh," Vain murmured softly with an arch look, "what about my asshole?" He slid his torso around and pressed the soft rounded cheek of his ass against Mac's hand. "I thought you just came, but if you're ready again..." Mac felt a flush cross his entire body at once; there must not be any blood left for his organs. They hadn't ever really talked about doing, well, that. He suspected... OK, in all honesty, hoped... it was probably going to happen at some point, but given his past it was a bit more complicated than it would be, even considering that he at least had never done it with anyone when he was a willing participant. The sudden surge of tension in his body gave him away; Vain turned around again and acted like nothing had happened. Mac worried that maybe he had let his boyfriend down with that reaction, but figured he would apologize if it became necessary. He dove down the blond's body and had Vain's cock in his mouth before the other man even knew what hit him. A sharp moan was his reward, and within a few minutes his mouth was being filled with bitter but tasty fluids. After the now-usual post-coital kiss, Vain spoke again "Ready to talk about it yet?"

All Mac could do was laugh. "Jesus, you don't give up, do you?" He snorted. "OK, fine. I know you don't like when I say it, Vain, but these people are bleeding you dry. They act like they can't lift a finger for themselves, and expect you to do everything... build the buildings, plant the crops, make the furniture. I mean, Shaver and Lil have gone through four turrets in two months because they are too stupid or lazy to move to a more defensible location." He saw Vain's glower start to form and decided to ignore it. He wanted to know so bad, he can damn well know. "It's unhealthy. I know it is because I've seen it before."

"Mac, stop." Vain's eyebrows were down now, eyes glaring, though still aimed at the door and not at Mac. "They need help. I like to help. It's fine." Suddenly Vain's eyes cut over to Mac suspiciously. "Wait... who told you that was the fourth turret in two months?"

"That's not important. And It's not fine, d... dang it. I saw this in the Capital Wasteland with the Brotherhood of Steel. The tin men came in all friendly, offered 'free security patrols' and 'community support projects', and got people used to letting someone else do everything for them. And not just do it, but do it to a high standard. By the time folks realized what was going on, the Brotherhood controlled everything." Mac's disgust rang through his voice. "Then it was just easier to bow their heads than try to fight about it. Not that they could do anything against Knights and Paladins in power armor. The point is, the more helpless you let people act, the harder it is for them to think or act for themselves." Mac realized his voice had gotten louder; this was one of his core beliefs, and Vain was just refusing to understand how important this was to him. Still, he modulated his tone a bit, saying more softly, "People need to solve their own problems. The only way they can have confidence in anything they have is if they know they built it on their own, without depending on someone else."

"This isn't up for debate, Mac." Vain's lips were a thin, straight line across his face, scar along his jaw knotted like his brow. "I know you don't like the settlements I've put together." He held up a hand against Mac's nascent protest. "And maybe I haven't taught them enough to be independent yet. I don't know. But I do know that they need me, and I can help, and I have to help if I can." At Mac's disdainful snort, he whipped around angrily, glaring directly at him; it was like facing directly into a fire. "I _have_ to help. I'm all they've got. And if I can pay back anything for all the years killing and burning and ruining and..." Vain looked away and Mac suddenly felt very small indeed. He hadn't even considered what sort of effect past memories would have on someone from so long ago. He tended to forget that Vain was from a different world, but times like this really drove it home. Vain's final whispered "I have to" was all he could take. They could resolve this disagreement later.

"Come here," Mac said, leaning back onto the straw pillow provided and pulling the taller man down on top of him. He wrapped his arms around Vain, performing the now familiar ritual of kissing the top of his head and smelling his hair. The scent of Vain was unique and calmed him like nothing else. Mac thought if trust had a smell, it would be the scent of Vain's hair. He knew he wouldn't fall asleep like this, but Vain needed the comfort right now and it would be a fine way to rest for a bit. Just a bit...

=

When Mac woke, it was to the sight of faint dawn light seeping in through cracks in the top of the eastern wall. The greyish light showed the room dimly, but the blond head pressed into his chest was shocking in a way. For someone who doesn't sleep at all with other people in the bed, Mac thought blearily, I sure got used to this quick enough. He slipped out from under Vain to go out and use the toilet, get some water and look around to make sure everything was still fine. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he went back inside and set down the can of water while gazing fondly at the sleeping man on the bed. When Vain begin to stir about ten minutes later, a soft "wake up, sleepyhead" from Mac was all it took to make his eyes slide open and a lazy smile cross his face.

"Morning, babe," came the slurred greeting as Vain stretched. Mac admired the rippling muscles on display and felt a twinge of interest even though the activities of the night before were... oh. Wow. He saw the giant blackish-blue bruise on the side of Vain's neck and snickered. When he left marks, apparently he left serious ones. This should be interesting, because the giant mark was high enough that Vain's collar wouldn't cover it and there was no way to mistake it as anything other than the love bite it was. Now, he thought, should I tell him or not? Putting himself in Vain's place, he knew the answer instantly.

"Uh... Vain." He said sheepishly. "You have a... big, uh, mark on your neck where I... um. Sorry." Giggling like a schoolboy, he watched as Vain looked around and finally found a shiny surface only to fall back with a disgusted sound at the reflection. Finally the blond sighed.

"Well, it's not like I was trying to keep us a secret, but I guess this is one way to let people know, sure enough." he said resignedly. They finished getting dressed and went outside. Every eye in the settlement followed the same path, from Vain's neck to Mac to the shack they slept in and back to Vain with eyebrows meeting hairlines everywhere. Nothing was said out loud, but there were clearly volumes worth of conclusions being drawn, and the gossip from this would probably be everywhere within the week. Mac noticed there were a few disappointed faces as well, as he knew there would be. Suddenly he was glad he left that mark after all. He was a bit shocked when, in the middle of the settlement, Vain took his hand and held it, but it was done with such nonchalant ease that Mac just stood there like it was the most normal thing in the world. Nothing had prepared him for the feeling of warmth and rightness he felt, though, and not even the disapproving looks from a few of the older settlers made any impression. When Vain leaned over, Mac half expected a kiss to complete the scandal, but the older man just said "We should reach the Castle by midafternoon." 

Mac hoped that this would last, because he knew that they had just papered over their disagreement from the night before, not resolved it. This warmth and closeness was everything he had ever wanted, but if Vain didn't start giving him some indication that his words were being understood and valued instead of heard and dismissed... still, he thought, time enough to worry about that after this errand gets run. Let's go help the Minutemen get the Castle back.

=

Late afternoon sun was turning the landscape and buildings a burnished gold as they emerged from the ruins of East Boston into the parking lot of the ruined convenience store where Preston and his strike team were waiting. As they approached the door, a short whistle indicated that someone was watching them approach, and suddenly figures were moving around inside. Mac grinned to himself. Guess we got the all clear. Preston's toothy smile greeted them as they came in. Mac didn't recognize any of the other people present, but Vain clearly did, and he was interested to see the subtle release of tension in all of them when they saw the General of the new Minutemen. Huh, he thought, that's an awful lot of confidence to have in someone because he set up a few settlements and killed a few raiders. Hope he... we, he thought with a brief moment of surprise to be using the word... hope we can live up to the high expectations. There was no obvious reaction from the Minutemen to Vain's giant love bite, but Preston did raise his eyebrows a bit after seeing it. After Garvey made the introductions, he started the briefing.

"General, glad you could make it. All of our initial scouting indicates that there's nothing more dangerous inside than mirelurks." Garvey looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Unfortunately, it's a lot of mirelurks. Like, a whole lot. Over a dozen adults, and many nests with multiple eggs per nest, some of which are due to hatch any moment. We've been debating strategy while we waited for you to get here. Lisa thinks..." Vain cut him off with a brusque motion of one hand.

"Mirelurks shouldn't be a threat, even in large numbers. We have six skilled guns here, two snipers and four laser weapons. Form a cordon, staggered, one forward one back, across the ruined wall. Front gunners long range, back gunners short range. Preston, Mac and I on point, you three with muskets take back. Anything that gets close is the back line's job, front fires at range." Vain Mac noticed that everyone was silent and rapt at the quick instructions. He'd never seen Vain like this, but he was reminded once again of the older man's previous life in the military. "Once five minutes have passed with no new hostiles appearing, at my mark, staggered advance in same formation to the wall, halt and clear. At that point, further orders will be given. Clear?" A chorus of agreement went up on all sides, and Mac was impressed with how quickly Vain had taken charge of the situation. He had only seen senior Gunners a few times, but even most of them didn't have this effortless sense of command and the charisma to pull it off. No wonder everyone treated the new General like a miracle-worker. He was also quietly amused by how put out Preston looked to be shut down like that in front of his troops. Mac just thought, hey... if you didn't want to be General, don't be mad if someone else takes the job and is good at it. Mac just hoped that Garvey knew what he was doing with his recon; he had trouble believing that super mutants or Gunners would let any number of mirelurks stand between them and possession of this potentially impregnable fortress.

At first everything went according to plan. The mirelurks went down quickly, and the nests didn't stand a chance against the focused fire of four lasers from close range. Things went completely sideways as the group saw no additional threats and Vain gave the all clear. As soon as the group scattered and began picking off stragglers, the earth shook. Mac's first thought was of Vain. As he frantically looked around for the blond hair, a giant shell hove into view and everything else was forgotten. Whatever this... thing... was, it was bigger than a behemoth. It loosely resembled the smaller mirelurks, but had almost double the number of shelled limbs flailing. Gouts of acid spat in all directions from its crablike maw, dissolving one of the Minutemen on the spot who was frozen in front of it, gaping upwards in horror. The water boiled around it, other grown mirelurks and spawn rising from the waves to throw themselves at the breached walls. 

In shock, Mac saw Vain dart across the opening in front of the monster at top speed, running from one high wall to another. Amazingly, he didn't seem to get touched by the noxious slime that was smoking all around. Shit, thought Mac furiously, I will personally kill Garvey if anything happens to Vain because of this. He scrambled around on the top of the wall and lined up his sights, firing and trying to hit one of the well-armored eyes or another sensitive spot. Bullets bounced off the dense carapace protecting most of the monster's organs, and laser fire seemed to leave scorch marks but not penetrate the shell. He tried to line up another shot, but quickly ducked out of the way of an incoming splatter of acid. As he tried to refocus, a shout by a familiar voice left him breathless.

Vain ran out into the open courtyard, shouting at the top of his lungs. The monster focused its rage on him, spewing acid in targeted gouts which the blond somehow evaded. He shot randomly with his wildly waving rifle, irritating it even further, and the giant mirelurk let out a deep roar of fury and surged forward over the wall. Explosions sounded at its feet, and the monster lurched, holes blown in its legs. Mac was dumbfounded but finally realized that when Vain had run across the opening, he had been dropping mines as he went. The recklessness of the maneuver made Mac feel like throwing up. Knowing how Mac worried about him dying, this was his answer? This was Vain's brilliant tactical decision? To run around with bags full of frag mines banging together, dropping them behind him like a trail of crumbs? Furious, Mac stood up and yelled to attract the monster's attention himself. It was groaning, several of its lower limbs shredded or detached, but it looked up and focused on the small waving figure, prepared to spit. Mac sighted carefully and shot out its left eye, ignoring the danger of acid. His timing was perfect, and before the spit could fly the left eye exploded in a burst of greenish fluids. The monster heaved and reared up, flailing its pincers in front of its face and drooling the acid down onto itself rather than spitting it outward. As soon as there was an opening in the flailing claws and chelicerae Mac fired again taking out the other eye. With a final groaning shriek, the giant mirelurk collapsed in an oozing puddle of its own bile. Mac was too angry to celebrate, ignoring the cheering and whooping from the courtyard as the Minutemen celebrated.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs and picked his way through the steaming pools of acidic muck in the courtyard, he brushed off the Minutemen who were trying to congratulate him on his precision shots. Preston was standing at the old communications tower in the center of the courtyard regaling Vain with stories of how much could be done once, sure enough, even more tasks were completed. Garvey was saying, "This radio was the heart of the old Minutemen, if we can get it working again, we can send and receive communications all over the Commonwealth! This would let us..." Mac was in no mood to listen. Garvey could run his own errands for once.

"I need to talk to you, _now_." He said, cutting Garvey off mid-speech and causing Vain's eyebrows to raise, then a furtive expression to cross the older man's face.

"But Preston was just..." Vain said, making a transparent attempt at distraction.

"Preston can go fuck himself." Glaring at Garvey, Mac saw the other man get offended and welcomed it. "So go run _that_ errand, Garvey. Think you can even manage to rub one out by yourself, without sending someone else to do it?" Dragging Vain almost bodily by the arm, Mac stalked towards the open door of the Castle complex leaving a spluttering, angry Preston behind. "Come on."

"Mac, what the hell is wrong with you?" Vain's eyes were furious, even though traces of shame were visible on his face. Mac knew he was aware of just how reckless his actions had been.

"Me?" Mac dropped Vain's arm in disgust and turned on him once they were safely around the corner, away from prying eyes and ears. "What the hell is wrong with you?! That was the most boneheaded, ridiculous thing I've ever seen in my life! Those mines could have blown at any minute, and you'd have been dead, and we'd all have been dead soon afterwards. Do you not even give a single shit that..."

"But they didn't blow." Vain interrupted mulishly. "It worked, didn't it? I didn't exactly have a lot of options when giant acid-spitting monsters appear out of the ocean. Somehow that didn't get planned for." Vain tried to reach out for Mac, but he shrugged him off.

"Right, didn't get planned for because Garvey doesn't know his ass from his elbow! 'We did recon' my ass! This whole thing was a clusterf... a cluster from the get-go, and now Mr. Helpless Preston is trying to give you even more shit to do! This is exactly what I was talking about last night!" Mac was so angry he felt like his head was about to explode, and Vain was standing there with a stubborn expression that made Mac want to punch the wall in frustration. Once again, he thought, here we are, me talking and him ignoring everything I say. Before he even thought about it, Mac shouted "And you don't listen to a damn thing I say! You just go off and do whatever crazy idea pops in your head, and if I say anything, then I'm just being overprotective, no matter how asinine it was. You're just, Jesus, you're ignoring me, doing stupid, dangerous things, and when I object you act like you don't even care! Are you trying to kill yourself? I like spending time with you, but it seems like all we do is run from place to place on these crazy errands for helpless people who can't even wipe their own ass!" Vain looked terribly hurt, but Mac was too mad to notice. "Whatever has you convinced you need to fix every sad story in the Commonwealth isn't doing you any favors. You're going to get killed, and then nobody gets helped."

Vain took a deep breath, and visibly tried to calm himself down. Mac was still in the mood to fight, but clearly the other man wasn't. "Well, I guess it's lucky for us I do like to help people," Vain said in a joking tone of voice. "I helped you, didn't I?"

Mac felt like a knife had just removed his lungs. He could barely breathe. After a moment, he said, "Oh. I see." Vain looked surprised, but Mac went on in a broken voice. "So that's what I am to you, is it? Just another fucking project? Another fixer upper? Another hopeless broken person who needs your help?" He could feel the tears rising, and he absolutely refused to cry in front of anyone here, especially Vain at this moment. "Fuck that. And fuck _you_." He stormed out of the corridor, ignoring the calls behind him. Taking his rifle, he ran at top speed back to the convenience store where he had left his pack. Mac snatched it up, and noticed a stash of supplies and a pile of caps sitting on the counter, ready for the Castle. Grinning mirthlessly, he threw everything he could carry in his pack and was gone.


	14. Taking a Stroll At Midnight Without a Lamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vain tries to find Mac, and hears an interesting story in an unexpected place.

Vain stood in the ruins of the Castle in shock. He hadn't meant... he didn't know why Mac would take what was supposed to be a joke so... oh god. At that precise moment, Preston came around the corner.

"General! Is everything alright?" No, Preston, Vain thought miserably. It's a damn long way from alright. "I saw MacCready leave in a hurry, and figured you must have sent him away to cool down. What was all that about in the yard?" Preston's eyes were wide, mouth still drawn a bit at the insult Mac had given him. Normally Vain would be all about trying to smooth the ruffled feathers, but at the moment he couldn't imagine a situation in which he would care less. All he wanted was to leave and find Mac, put this stupid fight behind them, and go somewhere to talk.

"I'm a little busy, Preston. Which way did Mac go?" Vain figured he could catch the other man before he got too far. If not, he just hoped that Mac had gone to cool down somewhere nearby and would be back soon.

"I didn't see." Preston's expression made it clear how much attention he had paid as well. "You know, General, if you don't want to fix the radio, I think Sturges would be invaluable for getting things back up and running here. After all he's done for Sanctuary, he could really make the Castle..." 

"I don't think that's going to be possible, Preston. I need him to stay in Sanctuary for a while. You're just going to have to get the place running without him. Now if you'll excuse me..." Vain tried to sidle past the other man, but he was at the exact right angle to block the door. Under normal circumstances, Vain would have laughed at Preston's transparent attempt to get his crush onsite and away from his current fling, but right now he was completely focused on finding Mac.

"But General, I think Sturges would be the best one to fix so many of the things that need doing here. He's exceptionally handy, and we don't have a generator to run the giant water purifier out back. Did you know there was a purifier? There's so much..." Preston nattered on, completely oblivious to the look that was appearing on Vain's face.

"Preston!" The Minuteman stopped dead, shocked at being interrupted so rudely. "It's not going to happen. Figure out a solution, make it happen. Use some of the other Minutemen. Now. Get. Out. Of. The. Way." Vain shoved against the other man where he stood in the door, pushing his shocked second in command rudely aside.

"General! I'm surprised at..."

"Jesus Christ, Garvey, shut the fuck up for once!" Ignoring the offended expression on the other man, Vain ran out of the castle and almost slid in the noxious sludge filling the Castle courtyard. The twilight was well advanced by now, but there was still enough light to see. Spotting one of the surviving Minutemen on guard duty at the entrance, he asked "Which way did MacCready go?" The man made a sympathetic face and pointed at the convenience store, but when Vain got there, it was empty. With a sinking stomach, he realized the supplies and caps that had been there when they went inside to clear the Castle were gone as well. It didn't look like Mac was planning on coming back in the near future.

=

Six days later as Vain slunk into Diamond City, rain drizzling down the back of his neck, he thought he never should have left the Vault. Two of the past three nights had been full of nightmares; the last had been rudely interrupted by a pack of feral ghouls looking for a meal. Even a nightmare was preferable to waking up to the grunts and gurgles of ferals all around; lucky for Vain he always set up a defensive perimeter. The sound of a giant feral discovering the frag mine outside the main entrance had eliminated their element of surprise, and three of the ghouls with it. Still, he was exhausted, and desperately missed Mac in so many ways, including having someone to watch his back. Every time he thought of the younger man, he felt like his heart was breaking all over again. Ignoring the banter from the guards, he sloped down the narrow alleys to Valentine's place, hoping the detective was back from wherever he had been.

"Nick?" He said, as he pushed open the door. He knew it was too late at night for Ellie to be working, she was either at the Dugout or sacked out somewhere.

"In here." Came the laconic reply. "What brings such a sad face to my door so late?" Nick's glowing yellow eyes looked up from the case file in front of him, sweeping the pictures of someone's dead body back into a manila folder before Vain could see too much of them.

"Nick, I need a favor." Ignoring the eye roll, Vain continued. "Mac got mad at me and... left. I need to find him. You're the best I know at finding people, even people who don't want to be found."

"Well," the old synth said, "maybe it would help to know what happened. People don't usually get pissed and just leave. For good, anyway. At least, not when they've been around as long as he has. You guys have been joined at the hip for months, and..." Nick looked up as Vain slumped dejectedly into the seat, and Vain saw the eyes flick down to the faded hickey on his neck as he came into the pool of light from the desk lamp. "Oh." Nick smirked and lit a cigarette as Vain could feel himself flushing. "I see. So it was that sort of fight and leave, then."

"Look, Valentine, I don't need abuse right now. I can't take it. I spend all day every day beating myself up as it is. We fought over a couple of things, some of them were my fault, some were, well, we have different opinions about how to handle things. I tried to... well, it doesn't matter. I made things worse. He left. I need to find him." Vain drummed his fingers on the desk, trying not to look like he felt. He knew Valentine would help him, the old synth was unable to resist showing off for anyone, but he was also deeply, incorrigibly nosy. It made him a great detective but a seriously annoying friend. Some things he wasn't willing to discuss with someone else. Honestly, he wasn't sure he could discuss them without crying.

"Tell you what," Nick said, uncharacteristically sympathetic expression looking slightly out of place on the tattered synth face, "let's start in Goodneighbor. That's his old stomping grounds, chances are good he's at least checking in with Daisy or Hancock for work. Want to head out in the morning?" The cigarette smoked gently in the metal claw of the synth's hand. 

"No, let's go now." Vain was exhausted, but he knew he couldn't sleep. If he tried to sleep in the Dugout Inn the memories of his visit with Mac would rise up and choke him. Hangman's Alley was... well, squalid and overcrowded. He needed to do something about that too. There were just so many things to fix. Maybe Mac was right, he thought unwillingly. I'm just one man, how can I fix everyone's problems all the time? When will it end? It was an uncomfortable thought, but one that needed some attention when he wasn't so tired.

"Not to be dramatic, but you look like hell." Nick observed. "Sure you're OK to head out again so soon? Might be a good idea to get some sleep and..."

"Nick, I can't sleep. I'll just... let me grab a Quantum and we can go." Chugging the glowing blue swill from the bottle, Vain knew he was eventually going to crash, but without Mac there to keep the dreams and stress at bay, he was dreading what came next. The synth just stood up and adjusted his raincoat. The only sign of his concern was the slow headshake and a brief glance from glowing yellow eyes as they went out the door.

=

Hancock leaned back on his ratty old couch, a picture of ease, playing with the darkened brass buttons on his coat. The mayor had seemed to almost be waiting for them when they came in the gate, rolling up to them before they could speak to Daisy or anyone else. As soon as they got inside the State House, Hancock offered refreshments and chems to everyone, then said "Hey Nickelface, could I get five minutes alone with your boy here?" Nick's eyes narrowed at the name, and he snorted disgustedly.

"Beats me how you got to be mayor when you're such a pill to be around," Nick said. "Vain, you feel safe being in here alone with this thing?" Hancock made a show of being offended, but Vain nodded wearily and waved Nick out.

"Yeah, meet me in the Third Rail in a few, I'll be along when we're done here." Nick touched his hat brim in an ironic salute, exchanged middle-finger waves with Hancock and stepped out, gently closing the old door behind him. Vain examined Hancock, trying to figure out what he wanted. The ghoul pulled out a tin of grape mentats from some hidden pocket, popped one and offered the case to Vain.

"Try one, makes you see the world in a wider, happier way. Gives you the warm fuzzies, and there ain't many warm fuzzies left in this world of ours." Vain waved them off; the last thing he needed was to be alone with Hancock and doped up. As tired as he was, he might just pass out. Why was it, Vain wondered, every time he came to Goodneighbor lately he was exhausted? Poor planning, must be. He hoped this wasn't about the Pickman job, because he'd been ignoring it. Once the Pickman mess got resolved, presumably Hancock was going to broach whatever big job he had planned that he'd been sitting on. Maybe he had gotten tired of waiting? Vain hoped that wasn't...

"MacCready came through here a few days ago." Hancock's face was uncharacteristically solemn. Vain felt his heart skip a beat. Mac? He fought down his immediate urge to ask questions, where he was going, was he still here, was he alright. His chest tightened, and his eyes prickled. This wound was way too fresh. Hancock went on, "I know the last time we talked, you warned me to stay out of your business. And I took that warning to heart. I don't know what's going on between you two, and I don't mean to meddle where I'm not wanted." From where he slouched on the ragged old sofa, the ghoul could have been a corpse. The only indication of life was his eyes, glowing black and boring into Vain in a way that effortlessly held his attention. "What I do know is, Creads looked awful. Like he hadn't slept in days, like something inside him was eating him alive. I've seen ferals who looked more content with themselves. And now here you come, hauling your pet synth with you, looking like someone shot your puppy and tried to beat you to death with the corpse. Still even got the faded remains of a hickey on your neck, but no Mac. And I ask myself, Hancock, you handsome devil, what do you think is going on?" The mayor flung his arms wide in a dramatic gesture, dust flying.

Vain's vision seemed to constrict. "What I ask myself is, Hancock, you nosy fucker, what's it to you?" He was almost shouting, pain blooming in his chest. Every time he thought about Mac, it hurt all over again. He wondered idly how long this would last. At least with Nora, he knew she was dead, but this? He couldn't go two days without someone mentioning Mac and triggering the pain all over again. As if the emotional pain wasn't already bad enough, imagining the face Mac would make hearing himself called 'Creads' made him feel like his heart was literally being sliced to ribbons inside him. Shared jokes needed to be shared to be anything other than painful. "Why do you give a shit about Mac or whether he's with me or not?"

The ghoul cracked open a Gwinnett Stout and took a sip, then grimaced and set it down. "Ugh, tastes like shit with the grape." Vain shook his head, wanting to be anywhere but here, talking about anything but this. He was about to stand up and leave, but Hancock made a motion for him to stay. He pursed his pitted lips and looked away, finally saying "I guess it's nothing to me, in the end. You gotta see, though... that dude was a basket case when he first showed up. Hell, we all are here. Goodneighbor is a whole town full of basket cases. But Creadikins," Vain snorted in disbelief at the ridiculous nickname, "boy did he fit right in. Even took it to a new level. He sat over there in that bar day after day, chewing on whatever skeletons were in his closet, a tight little ball of piss and misery, mad at everyone like a human KL-E-0. Then one day you show up and he leaves with you. Just another day in Goodneighbor." Hancock popped another mentat in his mouth and chewed meditatively. "Thing is, every time you brought him back through here, over the course of just a couple of weeks, I saw a MacCready I had never seen before. Every time he shows up he's happier, his face is calmer, he smiles once in a while, hell he's even nicer to people! And by the last trip, he's looking at you like you're the only dealer for whatever his fix is. Whatever you had between you, it was healing his hurts. And I don't think he could have stood to be hurt much more." Hancock looked down for a moment, mouth pinched, "I just hate to see that pain come back. For anyone, you know?"

Vain was floored. Hancock, giving a damn about someone else's emotional state? What the hell? Suddenly, he remembered a comment from his visit here before, Hancock saying 'if I'd known that hot body of yours was available, I might have put in a bid myself'. In context, it was another one of the ghoul's crude jokes, but... pieces began to slot into place. "Wait. Hancock. Did you have... feelings for Mac?" He couldn't have imagined a question more crashingly awkward, but embarrassment warred with concern. If he liked Mac and he thinks I hurt him... For a second, Vain wondered if he was in danger, but quickly realized there were much easier and more deniable ways to do him in than sitting in Hancock's office in the middle of town.

The ghoul threw back his head and guffawed. "Now that's a stupid question, Vaultie, I thought you'd have better sense. What am I supposed to say? No, so you can ask why I give a fuck? Yes, so you can get jealous?" Hancock wiped his eyes in a mockery of laughter but Vain realized that his guess seemed to have hit home. Well, shit. "But I will say this. Even if I had felt some sort of way about the kid, not saying I did mind you, I couldn't have given him what he needed. You could... and you did." Hancock gave him a shrewd look, and for a second in the uncertain light the original face of the other man was clearly visible behind the scarring. Vain realized in that moment that pre-ghoul Hancock had been devastatingly handsome. The mayor tapped his destroyed cheek and said "Some people can't see past this. Just part of the life, what can I say? But he loves you, V. I can see that, I know you can see that. And judging from the way you jumped at me like a deathclaw with a sore toe when I mentioned his name, I think the feeling is mutual."

"Hancock. Honestly, I don't know what to say." Vain's impressions of Hancock thus far hadn't been very positive, but this conversation had made him question his assumptions. Most men would never have offered comfort to someone who was dating the one they wanted, let alone try to get them back together when they had separated. Impressive, even considering the ghoul's annoying insistence on giving everyone stupid nicknames. Vain took a deep breath, and debated the wisdom of opening up to such an unlikely counselor. What the hell, he finally thought. He's got to be good at advice if he's the mayor of this shithole. "Mac wants... more than I can give. He hates my work with the Minutemen, he hates the people who work with me, he hates the settlers who depend on me. Really, it seems like the only part of my life he doesn't hate is me. He says he doesn't want me to go anywhere or do anything that's dangerous, and that's so fucking impossible in the Commonwealth it's laughable. I mean, you can't drop your pants and squat without the local wildlife trying to eat your ass for lunch!" Hancock laughed, a real one this time. "He got mad when I helped the other Minutemen on a big project, and we had an argument. Well, OK, a big fight."

"Would this happen to have anything to do with the recent news that the Castle is back up and running under Minutemen control?" Hancock asked wryly. "And that a behemoth-sized mirelurk queen was taken out in the fight by what all reports say was, and I quote Publick Occurrences, 'the General personally dropping mines from his pockets like cookies, assisted by some lightly-armored lunatic with a sniper rifle'?"

Vain flushed crimson. Goddamn it, Piper. "It... might. Yeah. Could I get a beer?" Hancock wordlessly fished in the cooler beside his seat and passed one over after popping the cap for him. "Thanks. So yeah. As if that wasn't bad enough, he's pretty jealous. He doesn't want me to go anywhere without him, he's convinced everyone is trying to get in my pants, and acts about halfway convinced that I'm letting them. And I'm even willing to put up with some of that, because a little jealousy is flattering, you know? A little goes a long way, though, and too much is a problem. But the main problem is this - there's no way I can give up everything else in my life, everything I'm doing and working to accomplish, just to be with him. I'm not living in a cage for anyone." At the word 'pants', Hancock immediately started leering at Vain like a deranged pervert and waving his tongue around lewdly, provoking a surprised belly laugh out of him. It felt good to laugh. Vain was surprised to be talking about this, and the clowning around helped to take some of the sting out of it. The beer did as well. "Honestly, I don't know what to do. I... yeah, fuck, I love him." Hancock nodded soberly, the silliness put away again for the moment. Vain hadn't actually said that out loud to anyone before, and felt a stab of anguish that the person who should be hearing it most was nowhere nearby. "And I feel like he probably loves me too."

"He does, man. He's head over heels for you and it shows on his face. He fucking glows when he looks at you. Glows! Do you know how many people would kill for someone to feel like that about them?" Vain felt vaguely guilty as he suspected one of those people was sitting across from him, giving him advice. "So let ol' John Hancock tell you a story.

"Once upon a time there was a man. He was a handsome dude, got more than his share of women, even men when he wanted. He liked to party too much to settle down. Now, he had a few offers from some high quality people to shack up, get married, get the whole house and kids thing going on, but like the song says, he was a wanderer, right? He got around. Besides, like I said, there was always someone else who was willing to get his crank wet so why settle for just one flavor of fruit when he could have the whole orchard? So life rocked along, and it was good, good times, good partying, good drugs, good sex, just good. But good don't last. One day, this dude managed to soak up way too many rads and ended up scarred." Hancock put his feet up on the low coffee table and shifted around a bit to get more comfortable, but Vain noticed that he wouldn't meet his eye.

"Is this dude we're discussing in the room with us, maybe?" Vain asked, and Hancock glowered in response.

"Absolutely not. Stop asking dumb questions and listen to the fucking story, V. I'm not over here talking to myself, I'm trying to tell you something. So anyway, now the dude isn't nearly as handsome, and offers aren't coming in like they used to. Our man starts to doubt himself, and worse, he figures that now the only thing he had to offer other people was gone, since he's lost his looks. He even begins to look at his old life and say, wow, maybe I was so fucked up I deserved what happened, you know? Now I'm ugly on the outside like I'm ugly on the inside, that kind of thing. So in addition to being a... to being scarred," he caught himself, "he's got a, what do you call it, a complex. 

"But what do you know, one day, this fine young lady meets our man and she's able to look past the ugly mug and decides that she actually likes the dude. So she not only comes to visit, she stays the night, if you get my meaning." Hancock pulled out his tin of mentats, rattled it speculatively, but finally picked up his beer again and took a pull off it instead. "Well, at first, our dude was over the moon. He had this hot piece of ass all worked up over him, and not the him that had been so popular, but the new him. And they run around together, fucking like mole rats, and everything is A-OK. But this little voice starts whispering in his mind: she's too good for you; she must be running a game on you; she's young and hot and fresh and you look like a bag of trash; she could have anyone she wanted and nobody would want you because you're a real shit, ain't you? Stuff like that. Because for the life of him, he can't figure out why someone like her is with someone like him. And honestly, he's kinda shallow.

"So now it starts to get messy. He gets obsessed with her. Wondering where she is when she ain't with him, thinking about who she might be with, what she might be doing, and beating himself up. Like everyone, this guy has done some shitty things, but he starts thinking about them all the time, because they're his so-called proof that he doesn't deserve her, right? What a fucking word that is, 'deserve'. We spend our whole lives shitting on ourselves and everybody else because of ideas about what we and other people 'deserve'. Fuck that nonsense. But anyway... back to our story. So he starts telling her he doesn't like her friends, he doesn't like her work, he doesn't want to go out, doesn't want her to go out, starts locking her down, right? Or at least trying to, because she wasn't having it, any of it. Now to him, he thinks what he's doing is common sense. He doesn't see that he's strangling the life out of her, because all he sees is his own fear that she'll realize he isn't good enough for her, she'll leave him, and there he'll be alone and back in the shit. Because our boy, he's good at a lot of things, but looking inside himself is not one of them, not by a long shot." Hancock takes another long swig of beer, finishing the bottle, and stares moodily at the ceiling. "So things get bad, then worse. He can't see that he's making the exact thing happen that he thinks he's trying to avoid. 

"Finally shit comes to a head. They have a big fight, they tell each other all the usual stuff people yell at each other in fights like that, and she stomps off. He's devastated, right, because now the thing he feared most of all in the world has come to find his ass, and there's nowhere to go. And that little voice in his head is screaming 'See? I told you so' louder than a fucking mirelurk king. So he does what he usually does when bad times hit, which is to hide from it. He got blind fucking wasted for a solid week and a half in his house. Holed up like a rat, didn't even leave the premises to wash up. When he finally gets his shit together enough to go outside, he finds a couple of notes on the door - seems the girl has come by looking for him a few times, knocked, nobody home, right? He figures he'll go find her, apologize, maybe grovel a little." The ghoul's voice is hoarser than usual, and his eyes stared off into the distance. "Problem is, after the last note, apparently she went outside the city for something, nobody knows what. Best anyone can tell, she got caught by super mutants and ended up in the stewpot. All they found was her shoes in the trashpile. Still had her feet in them." Hancock groped blindly beside himself for the cooler, finally cracking open another beer and drinking half of it in one go. "See... if this dude hadn't been so fucked up, so broken in his own head, he would have been able to do something different."

"Jesus, Hancock." Vain's voice sounded hoarse and uncertain. "But there's no way to know..." The story was rattling around inside his head, shedding insights with each circuit. He understood the message better than he wanted to admit. There was a little bit of everyone in that story, and enough blame to go around.

"Bullshit." Came the terse reply. "There were a million ways it could have ended better than it did. But that's not the point." Hancock stared at Vain blearily while thrusting a finger at him. "The point is... MacCready is like the dude in that story. He's broken. He thinks he's not worth shit. He feels ugly and useless. And now he's found someone that he thinks is way, way, wayyyyy out of his league, but that person seems to love him, value him, care for him. And it scares the fucking shit out of him, because he can't figure out why... he just doesn't think he's lovable. And he doesn't know what to do."

"But..." Vain knew his anguish must be apparent on his face and in his voice. "Hancock, Mac is wonderful. He's a good man, he's smart, he's gorgeous, and he cares about people though he'd rather die than admit it... he just can't see it." Tears started in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. "I can't get him to fucking see it."

"He can't see it. He won't. Right now, anyway." Hancock's voice was low and strong, and surprisingly optimistic for such a cynical speech. "But he can, if you keep telling him and showing him. I won't lie to you, it won't be easy. He's going to fight you tooth and nail to insist on how worthless he is, he's gonna push you away, he's gonna drive you up the wall. And I guess it's up to you as to whether or not you're willing to put up with that, knowing that he has to fix himself, you can't do it for him. All you can offer is support." The ghoul's face had a knowing expression that dripped with bitterness. "And if he decides to stop, or he can't face it and just runs away, you still might be out all that investment of time and energy. It happens." That thought rocked Vain back on his heels; it hadn't even occurred to him that Mac just might not be able to heal, no matter what. "But I can also tell you, I think you're pretty much his only chance of getting out of where he is. And I know he's interested right now in fixing himself, which he wasn't before he met you. So take that for what it's worth."

"I don't expect him to be perfect, Hancock. None of us are. I've got my own demons, god knows." It was Vain's turn to look away and refuse to meet the ghoul's eyes. "I don't need to get to perfect, I just need us to reach good enough."

"Then you're a damn sight more sane than most people, V." The old ghoul got up and came over and sat next to Vain, put a companionable hand on his shoulder. "I think you guys can make it work. But in the end it's up to you."

"Hancock..." Vain had never had his opinion of someone so changed by one conversation. "I appreciate this more than you know. You're a good man. And surprisingly wise."

"Now you're just trying to sweet talk me, you sexy thing." Hancock tilted his head winsomely, and the ruined eyelids fluttered mockingly over his jet black eyes. "I might let you turn my head, but I know better than to lay a finger on you, because I know our boy Mac really would air my brain out if I did." He laughed, and after a minute so did Vain.

"I just have one more question." Hancock's eyes narrowed dramatically, but Vain suspected he knew the answer already. "Did you and Mac talk like this? And did you happen to tell him that story?"

Hancock grinned wickedly, but waved one hand airily to dismiss the question and stood up. "I think I've answered about enough questions for one visit, Vaultie. Run along and get Nickolas Nickleby out of my bar before he sweet talks Charlie into leaving for Diamond City and working in the Colonial Taphouse." Laughing, the ghoul dodged Vain's playful punch in the shoulder and wandered across the room to rummage in a desk drawer, slinging papers and garbage across the floor. "If you're looking for a vacation spot, I understand Taffington Boathouse is under new management, now that they solved their insect problem. It's right behind Covenant if you're looking for it, down on the water."

"I was the one that cleared out the bugs from the place, I know damn good and well where... oh." Sardonic eyes looked at him from across the room. Vain's thoughts caught up to his tongue, reminding him of just how tired he was. Hancock was a better friend than he had dared to hope. He looked up, dark blue eyes meeting jet black ones in a moment of perfect understanding. "Thank you, Hancock. You're a better friend than I deserve. Than either of us deserve." He knew the ghoul understood which 'us' he meant.

"Alright, enough chitchat, don't get all weepy. Get out of my office, I'm a busy ghoul, got shit to do," Hancock said with a flourish of his long sleeves, though the effect was a bit ruined by the Jet inhaler in his hand. Vain gave him one more appreciative look, which was rewarded by a loud snort, and then went out to meet Nick in the Third Rail.


	15. Pain is a Constant Companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Runs coterminously with the previous chapter... this is what Mac was doing while Vain was visiting with Nick and Hancock.

When Mac fled from the Castle, he didn't have a destination other than "away". He ran as long as he could, heart pounding, pack beating against his back as he ran, but he ignored the burning in his legs and the weight on his back. He had a feeling that if his lungs hadn't called a halt to the run, he would have continued until he ran into the sea itself, and out across the ocean to whatever land was left on the other side. Even when he finally collapsed, gasping for breath, making as much noise as a wounded super mutant, he really wanted to keep running. Don't think, just run. A cloud of shock still lay over his mind like smoke; nothing really took shape in the mist other than a need to get away, right now. Later, he would remember this run like the escape from the Gunner camp when he finally fled the tyranny of Winlock and Barnes - just headlong flight, convinced that at any moment he might just die. Maybe from a shot in the back, maybe from a wandering threat he didn't have time to spot, maybe from the earth just opening and swallowing him up whole... it didn't matter in the end. And death was preferable to staying, so there were no regrets. As he sat and regained his breath, however, the reality of the situation began to form in his mind. Tears were close, but there was plenty of time for that once he found a spot to stay. Old habits settled back around him like a cloak. Back to this, he grinned sourly to himself, bitterness like bile rising to choke him. Time to remember how to live on my own again. I knew it was too good to last, and... no, don't think about that. Not right now.

As the night drew on into day, he avoided rest as much as his body would let him. Picking his way through the wastes, dodging everything that looked suspicious, he made his way finally to the gate of Goodneighbor. The sun was up behind the morning clouds, but Mac figured it would always be dark for him now no matter what was going on in the sky.

Sidling up to the counter in Daisy's Discounts, Mac attempted a smile but could tell by the expression on the old ghoul's face that he had failed miserably. "MacCready! What a surprise, haven't seen you in a few weeks. Word from the last caravan is Duncan is doing great, he's healthy as a horse and back to running around driving everyone there nuts." She laughed delightedly. "Now..." she drawled, looking around behind him out the door, "Where's that handsome fellow that you had with you before?"

"Not here, Daisy. I've got some stuff I'd like to sell, and a pile of caps to go to the farm. Can you move it for me?" Mac figured that Daisy would get the hint. Hoped, anyway.

"Aw, that's a shame. He was so good looking, and if he wasn't so clearly taken with you, well..." she batted her eyelashes in what would have been a seductive manner if not for her ruined, noseless face. Mac tried not to react, but her words were like a knife in his chest. Vain was the last thing he wanted to think about right now, and that was doubly true for thoughts of how handsome he was. He just looked at Daisy, and whatever was in his face stopped her in her tracks. Her face turned sad in an instant, brows drawing down. "Oh god, Mac. I'm sorry."

"Don't want to talk about it, Daisy. What will you give me for this stuff? Let's get some caps to the farm, please." She nodded sympathetically. He pulled all of the useless crap that Vain had given him to haul, the stuff from the convenience store and anything else he didn't need to survive. Daisy went through it, giving him good prices for most of it out of sympathy. He then handed over most of the caps he was carrying to go with those she had set aside.

"OK, MacCready. I'll move this money along, it should be down there before the middle of next week." She eyed him, clearly wanting to say a lot, but decided against it. "Take care of yourself, OK? If there's anything I can do to help, you let me know."

"Will do, Daisy. Thanks again. Hope to see you soon in better times." With that, he turned and headed for the gate. Before he got three steps outside her store he was being hailed by Hancock.

"Mac-and-Cheese!" Mac swore he was going to kill Hancock one of these days for these stupid nicknames. "Just the young sniper I was looking for! Where's your..." 

"I'm traveling alone, and you can shut the f... you can just shut up about it," Mac snarled. Hancock drew back in surprise at Mac's response, staring for a moment. KL-E-0 leaned out of Kill Or Be Killed to see what was going on, then muttered something disdainful about public drama and ducked back in her shop. Mac and Hancock both ignored her.

"OK, MacCready, didn't mean to step on your dick. Calm yourself, man." Hancock said. "Why don't you come up to the parlor and let's chat for a bit?" He motioned towards the entrance to the State House.

"Sorry, no time for a chat today. Got places to be, people to shoot, I'm a busy man." Mac was desperate to get away. He knew how nosy the ghoul was; Hancock made Daisy look quiet and withdrawn.

"Well, if you're not interested in work, I understand. I'll tell the client that you were too busy, and I guess I'll see you later..." the ghoul said, smiling broadly and tipping his tricorner hat, then turning away. Mac cursed, knowing that Hancock was manipulating him but also knowing that he needed to get back into working as soon as possible. Damn it all to hell. Sighing, knowing he would regret this, he followed Hancock through the peeling wooden door and into the State House.

=

Staggering out of the State House the next morning, MacCready cursed the sun and light in general. As he had suspected, Hancock didn't have any real work for him, he just wanted to be nosy and get in Mac's business. And get him drunk, he thought with disgust. Mac woke up that morning with a mouth that tasted like he had licked every toilet in Goodneighbor, and a hangover that made him pray for death with every step. The old ghoul had regaled him with story after story, all of them somehow seeming to be about relationships and what did and didn't work, despite Mac's repeated insistence that what went on between him and Vain was nobody else's business and certainly not Hancock's. Nosy bastard. Mac hadn't told him anything though... at least he thought he hadn't. Hmm.... Hoped he hadn't. Not that he would necessarily remember if he had, by the end of the night. Mac couldn't recall the last time he was that fucked up, and Hancock kept dragging out booze from cabinets and nooks in the room since he knew from previous experience that Mac had no interest in chems. By the time Mac staggered (well, crawled, if he was honest with himself) up the stairs, he was surprised he could move at all. Unsurprising to anyone that the old ghoul's answer to heartbreak would be a massive bender.

Hancock and Vain's pet synth Valentine were two peas in a pod, Mac realized, both always up to their ass in someone else's business. At least Valentine didn't constantly compete with himself to see what kind of ridiculous nickname he could come up with for whoever he was talking to... Mac still couldn't figure out how Hancock ended up as mayor of anything with a habit like that. With a sigh, he realized that all this thinking wasn't making his hangover any better. Time to head to ground somewhere for a while, get his head sorted out. Mac had told Hancock he was thinking of heading to Taffington Boathouse, since it was out of the way and should be a good place to lay low for a bit. Grunting at the pounding behind his temples, he headed east to cross the bridge near Bunker Hill.

The raider gangs were uncommonly quiet, and the robots who lived on that ridiculous beached ship just watched as he slunk past. The bridge was clear, even; he was surprised not to take fire when he crept across it. Mac wondered if something had happened while he was running around with... no. He wasn't going to think about any of that until he got somewhere safe, he told himself sternly. Loss sat in his chest like a gaping wound, and like a wound, you had to keep yourself distracted from it or else the pain would be so intense you couldn't function. Come on, Mac thought, let's go. Get it moving, keep it moving, one foot in front of the other. Don't look at the pain, and it's not there, right? Mac was so distracted by his internal dialogue he didn't hear the scuffed footstep to the side. Luckily the raider coming around the corner decided to gloat. "Peek-a-boo!" came the shout, and Mac whipped his rifle up and fired in one motion, delivering a headshot that most people wouldn't have been able to give from range. The raider's body, now missing half its head, slumped to one side and splatted on the concrete. Some of the blood spattered on Mac's coat, which made him curse under his breath.

"Peek-a-boo to you too, dumbass," he muttered. He heard more calls as other raiders converged on the location, drawn by the sounds of combat. Looking around, Mac realized that he had almost walked into a cul de sac which would have been a deathtrap. OK, he thought. Got to pay a little more attention if I want to live long enough to be properly sad, and ain't that a rip? He set off at a lope down a narrow alleyway away from the approaching raiders, staying low and covered and managed to make it to Bunker Hill proper. The guards at the gate saw the fresh blood glistening on his coat and raised an eyebrow, but he said "Raiders near the bridge on this side, one down, four or five still up sounded like" and they nodded, making a note.

"Thanks, we'll send out a team. You hurt?" Mac shook his head and they waved him through. Once he filled his water bottle at the pump, he headed out the back on his way to Taffington. Heading across the bridge, he veered wide to avoid Double-C as memories of his last visit not a week ago rose up in a choking cloud in his mind. Try as he might not to give in, he finally had to find a stump to sit behind, in as much cover as he could arrange, and cry at the thought of how happy he had been in bed with Vain at County Crossing so recently. It was even more tragic when compared with his abject misery now. He had always been irritated by Vain's tendency to treat him like he was fragile, but if he was just another one of Vain's little projects... Jesus. Mac's gut spasmed and he thought for a moment he was going to vomit. As he sat there, replaying Vain's comment and face obsessively over and over in memory, pain washed over him in waves. He knew intellectually that this was the worst place to be doing this, that he needed to get up, get moving, get somewhere safe, but he just couldn't bring himself to get up and move again. The pressure of keeping himself from sobbing out loud was almost unbearable. He hunched over making a soft keening noise; this was like losing Lucy all over again, except this time Duncan was far away and he was unable to distract himself with tending to a child. 

After an hour or so of silent crying, he forced himself to stand up, move, but there was a gaping hole in his chest where his heart had been. He realized how much he loved Vain by losing him. He had always feared that maybe Vain would be killed, or maimed, that he would lose the other man somehow, but it never occurred to him (never? said the most bitter, cynical part of him, never?) that Vain didn't care beyond wanting to fix... bile rushed up and Mac vomited suddenly, convulsively, empty stomach forcing acid up and burning his throat and the back of his nose. He hoped Taffington was near, because it was unsafe to be this wounded and be outside a settlement. Regardless of whether the wounds were physical or mental.

As he slouched exhaustedly through the main gates at Taffington, he was relieved to see nobody that he knew, nobody that he had ever seen before. Quite the reverse from the usual process, where you wanted someone to vouch for you, he thought tiredly. But this meant nobody would ask him about Vain. A couple of people worked in the plants growing in front of the old house. One woman caught his eye because she was talking to herself as she worked. A kid's voice could be heard from inside the house. No sooner had Mac come through the gates than an old man with one arm approached. The fellow looked to be about fifty or so years old, but still getting around fine and had a wicked looking blade slung on the opposite hip for ease of drawing.

"I'm Cutler, run this place for the Minutemen." The old man said forthrightly. "If you're friendly, welcome to Taffington. If you're not, turn right around." Mac thought this was a pretty warm welcome for a stranger. "What's your business here?"

"Passing through." Mac responded. "Looking for work, if you got any. Place to stay, preferably somewhere I can be alone." He knew he looked like hell, and he knew that the old man wasn't missing a single thing, if the slow once over and nod meant anything.

"We're a new settlement, barely up and running. Not a lot of alone around here, if you get my meaning." Cutler had dark eyes, almost black, and his gaze had the piercing quality Mac associated with ghouls like Hancock. "What sort of work did you have in mind? We don't have a lot of caps, so unless you want to get paid in food and lodging..."

"I'm a merc." Mac said. Might as well get it out on the table. "Figured a new settlement like this wouldn't be too popular with the less human, less friendly neighbors. If you got problems and caps, I can solve them. If you got problems and no caps, we can talk. If you got no problems, I'm not looking to become one." He saw Cutler relax a tiny bit and Mac realized that his intuition was correct; the old man was good at reading people, and Mac had just passed some sort of test.

Cutler grinned. "Funny enough, we do have problems. Who'd have guessed, right? Come on in, wash your face, and set your stuff down. We can talk in a bit, let me finish what I'm doing." Mac nodded curtly and went inside the house. One of the idle men standing around just happened to be heading the same way, keeping an eye on the merc as he set his stuff down and collapsed into a chair. No sooner had his back touched the chair than the alarm bell rang. "Raiders!" came the cry from outside. What the... It doesn't rain but it pours, Mac thought. Snatching up his rifle, he ran upstairs to see if he could get a window to fire out of, since they had a good view of the gate.

When he reached the second floor, a young boy, maybe 10 years old, was cowering next to a bed set up directly under a window. With a muttered "scuse me", Mac crawled on the bed and leaned out the window, ignoring the kid. He stuck his rifle out the window and immediately saw the raiding party. He was able to drop two of them before they even knew he was there; clearly they were expecting less resistance than a gifted sniper. He heard shouting and saw them trying to turn around, got another one in the back of the head as he ran. Remembering the ambush in the city, Mac had a crazy urge for a moment to yell "peek-a-boo" out the window. As he looked around for the remaining two raiders, he saw the settlement leader and understood how the old man got the role. Old or not, even with one arm Cutler moved like greased lightning; as soon as the raiders turned, he was out the gate and chopping a huge raider practically in half with the blade he had been carrying, and that was that. One raider was left running frantically into the hills.

A piping voice behind Mac said "Wow, Mister, you're an amazing shot!" He turned, remembering that the boy was there, and saw him standing beside the bed with wide eyes. The boy was wearing clothes that were two sizes too big for him and looked sort of raggedy, but his black curly hair was cropped short and he clearly wasn't hungry. "Could you teach me to shoot like that?" Thoughts of Duncan rose up to almost choke him.

"We'll see," Mac said, reminding himself of the mungos in Big Town. That was the kind of stuff they always said to their kids, sounding good and meaning nothing. On second thought, he remembered being this kid's age all too clearly, and he had learned to shoot young. He felt he owed the boy a better answer. "If I stick around long enough, and the old man and your parents are OK with it, sure. Everyone should know how to shoot safely." Mac looked around and realized he was still laying across the boy's bed. He stood up and said "What's your name?" Given his history with the word, it would be a cold day in hell before he called anyone kid.

"Gianni," the boy replied. "Don't have a dad. My mom is Gina, she works in the fields, we've only been here for a couple days." He thought for a moment, looking less excited about the idea of asking permission from others. "Um..." The boy looked away, clearly bothered by something. "Mom isn't... uh, she gets worried easy. She worries a lot. We can ask though."

"All parents get worried easy, Gianni. I have a son, I worry about him all the time. It's part of the job." Mac had forgotten how exhausting conversation could be with kids this age. He was glad to hear Cutler coming up the stairs before the grey hair came around the bend.

"Good shooting." Cutler grinned. "I worried for a minute I was losing my touch, thinking you might be a scout for those boys, but when I heard the bang-bang from the window and saw them dropping, I knew I had been right. Didn't figure you for the raider type." Mac thanked the raiders in his mind; they had done more to make him welcome than he could have done for himself in a week. "Gianni, could you go let your mom know you're alright? I'm gonna stay here and talk to..." his eyebrows went up, waiting for Mac to give a name. The boy nodded and sighed, then trudged down the stairs.

"Ghost," Mac decided to use the name he did work with in the Wastes. Easier than his own, given everything. "Glad to help. No charge for those." He joked. Cutler laughed out loud.

"Well, that's quite a fine gift, Ghost. Much appreciated. So you're a merc, you said." Mac knew this was coming; time to talk business. All he really wanted was a place to stretch out and hopefully not cry any more, but it didn't look like that was on the schedule.

"Yep," was his laconic reply.

"Well, I saw your shooting skills pretty clear just now." Cutler looked up, piercing black eyes examining Mac's face. "So here's the problem. We've got a colony of super mutants across the lake. Old clump of houses, half built, from before the war. Greenies are swarming over there. They have been here longer than we are, but they have figured out we're here. They've sent a couple of small raiding parties, but we know the big one is coming. I know you're one guy, but..." The old man glanced away. "Anything you could do would be appreciated."

"Appreciation is good, but lets talk caps." Mac responded. "How many greenies are we talking? Five? Ten? Thirty?"

"They've lost four to raids to us. We suspect around ten left, but maybe a few more, plus a couple of those big ugly dogs." Cutler looked like he was having second thoughts, but Mac figured that was just a negotiating tactic.

"Three hundred." Mac said in a firm voice. It was low, but he knew a new settlement wasn't going to have lots of cash lying around. Besides, he wouldn't have to pay rental and food costs, so with that it would be about normal rate.

"Ouch," Cutler said, frowning and looking away, his face considering. "It's a fair price, but we just don't have that kind of money. I guess we'll wait for the General to..." Mac saw red for a moment.

"Listen, the General might or might not be through here before the greenies come and kill you all, cook you and eat you. If you want your problem solved, solve it for yourselves." Mac realized he was being louder than he should. He suspected he was saying a little too much and showing a little too much emotion, but he didn't care. "If you can't take care of yourselves, what are you going to do if something happens to the General, or whoever else you are depending on? Life's too short. Solve your own problems." The old man reared back in surprise, eyebrows raised.

"Well, I can tell you're used to negotiating." Mac realized the old man thought this was a sales pitch; good, he thought with a touch of embarrassment. He was kind of laying it on thick. He couldn't help it, this was the exact shit he hated when he and Vain had been... he wrenched his attention back to Cutler. "And you make a fair point. Will you take two fifty and room and board? We'll feed and house you as long as you want to stay." Cutler grinned, but looked a bit uncomfortable. Mac suspected he was telling the truth when he went on, "We'll pass the hat and see if we can come up with two fifty."

"Yeah, alright." Mac said. "I know you Minutemen have a rep for honesty, so I will trust you. I'll head out tomorrow. I'll expect the full amount and will bring proof of my end with me." Cutler's mouth was pinched up, but his eyes were laughing. He and Mac both knew that Taffington had gotten the better part of this deal. "Oh... and if there's as much salvage as I suspect there is over there, I want fifty caps worth of credit to make the full three hundred if I want any of it." Cutler just laughed and shook his head.

"Ghost, you're a merc all right, but it's short for merchant, not mercenary. If you were any sharper you'd cut yourself." Mac laughed, but he figured Cutler should know it wasn't his first rodeo. The older man held out his hand and Mac shook it ceremoniously. Bargain reached. "I know you said you wanted some privacy. You can sleep in the boathouse if you want. No beds in there or anything else but a big water filled hole in the floor we haven't covered up yet, but you can spread a bedroll and the door locks."

"Perfect." Mac eyed the Jangles doll giving him a glassy eyed stare from the head of the bed. "Better than being stared at all night by that thing." He went downstairs to the sound of Cutler's dry laughter. As he came outside, he saw the boy Gianni talking to the woman he had noticed when he came in who was talking to herself. Gianni waved at him, but not enthusiastically; Mac figured that meant that Mom wasn't very enthused at the idea of shooting lessons. Mac wandered over, carrying his stuff. He noticed that the woman looked at him without eye contact and immediately flinched away.

"Your son asked me to teach him to shoot. You OK with that?" Mac figured direct was the best approach, especially since he didn't plan to be here long enough to get to know these people. The woman's refusal to meet his eye and flinching movements made him suspect that something seriously unfortunate had happened to her, however. She didn't seem to be all there.

"He's a good boy." The woman said in a low voice. "Don't do anything to him, please. He's a good boy." She shook her head, cowering down a bit. Gianni stood beside her, an expression of deep embarrassment on his face.

"She told me it was OK." the boy said, clearly lying, eyes pleading for Mac to play along. "Before you came over."

"Uh huh." Was all Mac said. Addressing the timid woman, he said in a low, unthreatening voice, "I'll take care of him and not let him get hurt, teach him the proper way to do it, OK?" The woman didn't react beyond continuing to mumble her two sentences. Gianni looked like he wanted to sink into the ground. Gina bent down and started fiddling with the tato plants, making sure to keep an eye on Mac to ensure that he hadn't moved towards her. By this point the boy was doing a little dance of frustration and shame. Mac knew it must be painful for him to have people see his mother like this. Nodding, he just took his stuff and moved towards the boathouse. 

The kid showed up as Mac was laying out his bedroll and arranging his bags, knocking on the door. At Mac's acknowledgement, he opened the door and slipped inside. "She's going to be OK, Mr. Ghost."

"I'm sure she is, Gianni." Mac knew what it was like to lie like this. The boy could have been him or any of the other kids in Little Lamplight, except he had to take care of the woman who should have been taking care of him. "Look, I've got to go do something for Cutler tomorrow, but when I come back, I'll find you a pistol and we can start our lessons, OK?"

"I... yeah. Thank you." Gianni looked so grateful it made Mac's heart feel a bit better. For a minute, at least, he wouldn't have to think about Vain. He remembered from losing Lucy, the most important thing was to stay busy, keep as many distractions around as possible. Even the brief thought of the older man was enough to send a dagger through his chest. When Mac realized he had been staring into space, he snapped out of it to realize that Gianni had left and closed the door already. Despite the early evening light still filtering in, Mac locked the door and lay down.

The next day he headed out. What should have been a quick job turned out to be a lot more complicated, and he spent hours stalking individual mutants through the maze of houses, taking his shot and then hiding until the alarms died down. Mac didn't make it back to Taffington until the evening of the following day, carrying a burlap sack with blood dripping from the bottom. When he came in the gate, Cutler wandered over to greet him and he threw the sack at the old man's feet. "Twelve mutants, four dogs. Next time, maybe mention the fact that one of them had a f... a dang rocket launcher." Gianni came running up and his eyes were like saucers when he saw the bag.

Cutler opened the bag and rummaged around, lack of an arm not causing him any problem at all. "Ears. Huh. Efficient way of counting, I guess... even mutants only have one right ear." He reached in and pulled out an entire head of a super mutant, "So who's this handsome fellow?"

"Mr. Rocket Launcher. He pissed me off enough to come back with me as a target for my shooting range with Gianni." The old man's mouth made an 'oh' shape, but he just nodded and dropped the head back in the bag.

"Well, seems like you came through for us. I'll bring your money along to you. Assume you'll be in the boathouse?" At Mac's exhausted nod, Cutler grabbed the bag and headed for the back porch. "I'll keep your friend here on the porch when you're ready to set up the range." Mac just grunted and headed for his bedroll.

The next day, he set up the range and walked Gianni through the basics of firearm safety. By the second day, they were shooting at cans and he was watching the boy like a hawk, but the kid was good. He picked it up quickly, and he listened; Mac was surprised at the boy's quick progress. By the third day, he traded Gianni's 10mm for a hunting rifle and said "let's try you with a longer range". Gianni was thrilled, and before long had the hang of the scope and was amazed at the longer range. Gianni made one shot dead on at a distance of over 100 yards, and Mac was impressed in spite of himself. Ruffling the kid's hair and congratulating him, Mac looked up and saw a familiar blond head coming in the gate. 

"Shit" was all he could say.


	16. Magnets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No matter how far you run, sometimes your problems just find you.

Vain had put up with about enough from his traveling companion. "Nick, if you ask me one more goddamned time if I'm sure there's a settlement out here, I'm going to find a super mutant camp and leave you in it." He waved mosquitos away from his face for the millionth time, cursing. "I set the place up, I know where it is. And you don't even get bitten by mosquitos because they don't drink oil. So shut up."

"Someone's in a lovely mood," came the sour reply. "I feel like I'm traveling with Hancock. If you start making up stupid names for me, I'm heading back to Diamond City, just so you know." In spite of himself, Vain chuckled. As they came around a bend in the road, a wall across the old pavement was visible with a heavily armed gate surrounded by turrets. The lake beside them sparkled in the sunlight, and even the old ruined house seemed warm and inviting in the afternoon light.

"See?" Vain crowed. "There it is. I will never understand why I got here less than a year ago and I'm better at finding my way around the Commonwealth than those of you who are natives." The guard at the gate had peered suspiciously at the two travelers, but quickly recognized the General of the Minutemen and word spread quickly. By the time Vain and Nick had made it to the gate, Cutler was standing there beaming. The old man looked as ragged as Vain remembered, but he also had found a machete or sword somewhere. Scary looking blade, he thought.

"General! Always a pleasure," the old man said. He did a double-take when he saw Nick and took in the tattered appearance of the synth, along with the fedora and overcoat.

"Cutler, you're still here, good to see you too. This is Nick Valentine, he's a friend of mine, you might have heard of him. Runs a detective agency in Diamond City." The old man's expression lit up, clearly he was familiar with the 'good synth'. Nick shook his hand and they murmured pleasantries to each other. Vain looked around discreetly but didn't see any sign of Mac. There were a few people tending to some tato plants and mutfruit in the yard of the house, but none of them looked even vaguely like Mac. Not, he thought with a spike of pained amusement, that Mac would be caught dead tending crops, but still. He had tried not to get his hopes up as they traveled. He knew that Mac could have moved on already, or the whole thing might have been a lie he told Hancock just to get the ghoul off his case. Hell, Hancock had never actually said that Mac told him that's where he would be. The same hopes and worries that had haunted him the whole way here swirled around him like paper in a windstorm, but he forced his attention back to Cutler. "The place looks great, seems like you've picked some people up too. Who's here?"

Cutler smiled, showing stained teeth. "Yeah, we're doing OK. That's Gina over there," he waved lazily at a woman tending to the tatos. She didn't look up, instead ducking down a little more. She seemed to be muttering to herself, or the plant...? Vain almost asked about it, but Cutler caught his eye and shook his head minutely, so he just nodded. Cutler went on, "Her son Gianni is around here somewhere. Merc named Ghost came through and took care of some raiders and greenies for us a few days back, he's been teaching the boy to shoot. If I'd known you were coming I'd have asked you to do it, saved the money I paid him." Vain consciously resisted the strong urge to make a face. Saving money he understood, but it was like Mac stood up in his head and yelled 'see?' at the old man's words. The one-armed mayor cocked an ear, but no gunshots were aubible in the afternoon, just the whine of insects and the slap-slap of the lake water against the pier. "Guess they're done for a bit, ought to be coming in shortly, I'll introduce you. Marnie is the other one over there, she got here about two weeks ago." An old woman waved and nodded, aged but unbent. Marnie looked like she was a skeleton wrapped in leather; thin as a rail but she had that indefinable quality of toughness that Vain associated with professional survivors. He was glad she had found a spot to make a home. "There's a few others around, I'll introduce you when they're handy. What brings you to these parts?"

"Oh just in the area, wanted to see how you were doing," Vain said, ignoring the loud snorting sound Valentine produced. "But tell me about this merc. He staying in the house?" Vain felt his heart in his throat. Part of him was sure it was Mac.

"No, he's a bit off. Guess you have to be to do what he does, eh? He's bunking down in the old boathouse. Told him we didn't have the hole patched yet, but he didn't seem to care that half the floor was water, moved right in nice as you please. Don't think he likes sleeping around other folks." The old man spit off to the side and scratched his leg. "Hell of a shot, though. We had a raiding party when he first showed up. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, but he took out three of the five just pop-pop-pop from that window right there." A wave of the old man's hand indicated the middle window. "Three shots, three dead assholes. No charge for that, either."

Had to be Mac. The similarities were just too strong. "Well, wasn't like the raiders would have let him go if they'd taken the place," Vain pointed out. "No matter what we have going on, those of us who don't raid sort of need to pull together against those that do. Is he around?" He felt light-headed he was so excited. At that moment, a small boy came around the gate, carrying a beat up rifle with a scope on it.

"Gianni! Come here, got someone for you to meet." The boy's black curly hair was cut close to his head, and he had reached that age where his brown eyes looked almost too big for his face. Vain noticed that he didn't look like he was going hungry, though, and he looked happy. Things were clearly going pretty well for him. The boy looked down nervously as the old man said "This is the General, he's the head of the Minutemen. He was the one that set this whole place up."

"H'lo sir." came a tiny voice from the boy. Vain remembered being that age and being introduced like this to other adults; clearly that hadn't changed.

"Nice to meet you Gianni, learning to shoot?"

"Yessir." The boy said, glancing off to the side. "My friend Ghost is teaching me. He's a really good shot."

"I heard he was. Is he around? I'd like to meet him." Vain hated to show up with a kid, but at the same time, it might keep things from getting too loud too quickly before he could apologize. He had... God, he had so many things he wanted to say.

"No, he said he had to go do something. He ran off pretty quick." Vain kept himself from cursing in front of the kid by sheer force of will. Mac must have seen him come in. Shit. He knew he didn't have the skill to track the merc out of here if he didn't want to be found; there were just too many places to hide out here. Now what?

"Well, if he comes back, come find me, would you?" The boy nodded and ran off to talk to his mother. She looked up when he came nearby, but he was clearly doing most of the talking. Cutler smiled fondly.

"It's good to have a kid around. We need more kids. Too much shit goes on, and the young ones are the first ones to suffer." Vain didn't want to talk about kids, the topic reminded him of how little progress he'd made in finding his own missing kid, how much he wanted to help Mac get Duncan somewhere safe... he nodded and changed the topic.

"I want to stick around and meet this Ghost character. He sounds like someone I should know." Valentine coughed dramatically, and Vain wanted to kick the synth in the shin. He shot the detective a quick glare, and got a blank look in response. Only the slight rise of a corner of the synth's mouth gave away the joke. Asshole, Vain thought. "I'm going to take a look around, let me know if you need me to do anything." Cutler nodded and looked like he was about to keep talking, but Nick chimed in at that moment.

"So walk me through who does what when there's a raid," the synth said. Cutler looked a little surprised, but gamely started fielding questions. Vain revoked Nick's asshole status at the synth's attack of sudden-onset helpfulness. He went directly to the boathouse and looked inside. Just as he had suspected, 'Ghost' was Mac. He would know that bedroll anywhere. His bedroll and backpack were here, and Vain was certain that Mac wasn't going to go off and abandon them. Gotcha, he thought. Before he even thought about what he was doing he walked over and picked up a shirt laying on the backpack and pressed it to his face. The familiar smell of Mac made his heart pound hard in his chest. He looked around the room, noting the way the late afternoon light cast flickering reflections onto the walls from the water sloshing in the central channel in the floor. Vain went and made a little seat in the corner tucked slightly behind the massive steel combination worktable/cabinet mounted on the back wall. This would be a good quiet spot, he thought. Not immediately visible when you came in the door, but not hidden either. He pulled a candle out of his pocket just in case, made sure his lighter was where it was supposed to be, and settled in to wait. This might be a long night.

As an hour ticked by, then another, Vain began to wonder if this was really a good idea. About 7 PM, just as the sun was going down he heard the door squeak as it swung open. With his heart in his throat, almost afraid to look, he peeked around the corner of the steel bench and saw Nick peering into the gloom. The yellow eyes spotted him immediately. "You still in here, Vain? What are you doing, gonna sit here til he shows or you starve?"

"Nick, you know I love you like a brother, but butt out." Vain sat back against the wall, legs protesting as they returned to the pose they had already held for too long. "I need to talk to him. However long it takes, it takes."

The old synth shook his head, wires briefly visible through the hole in his neck covering. "Friend, I don't know if you're in love or just nuts, but either way, you sure like to do things the hard way. I remember the first time I saw you in Skinny Malone's vault, before I finished asking what you wanted to do you were already shooting people, and you haven't stopped running straight up the middle yet." Nick looked around the room at the backpack and bedroll, gauged the angle from the spot where Vain was sitting to the door. "I know you're probably not thinking about this, but jumping a former Gunner in the dark is a dicey proposition. I don't know MacCready very well, but I do know that he's bound to have an itchy trigger finger. Be careful this doesn't end in tragedy for everybody."

"Way ahead of you, Nick," Vain said. "Why do you think I'm over here behind this giant steel cabinet?"

"Well," Valentine said, "you know him best, I guess. Just a thought." Extending his hand, he passed Vain a bowl. "Here, I brought you some dinner. They had stew, thought it might go down OK." The smell of rich meaty broth rose from the bowl and filled the area, radstag or brahmin. Vain thought it smelled amazing, but after just a few mouthfuls his stomach was protesting. He was too wound up to eat. Sighing, he handed it back to the detective.

"Thanks, Nick. It was a good thought, but my nerves are shot, I can't eat right now. Just... leave me be in here. I'll see you in the morning, and we'll see what we've got." Nick stared at him with a look of pure bemusement that must have belonged to the original Nick Valentine. Finally, the old synth just shook his head and left, closing the door on the way. Now, Vain sighed, the real wait starts. He couldn't imagine Mac going off and leaving everything he owned like this, so he had to come back... didn't he? 

Vain's mind kept flashing back to that last expression of utter betrayal on the younger man's face, that shattered look that said more clearly than anything how hurt he was. For the millionth time, Vain wished he could go back and unsay that stupid joke, say something different, do something different, anything to change the horrible outcome of what should have been a wonderful day. The same thoughts chased themselves around and around in his head, as they did each time he even brushed against the topic in his mind. He missed Mac like he imagined a junkie missed their drug; literally everything in the world reminded him of his lover. By 10 PM, the Moon was up and the settlers had gone to bed. He listened to everyone making their way back inside the house, arming the turrets, saying goodnight to Marnie who was on first watch. Finally silence fell. Please, baby, come back, Vain pleaded in his mind. Come get your stuff. Time ticked along, and the dim moonlight slowly crawled across the walls as the white crescent made its way through the sky. Vain figured it must be close to midnight when he heard a rustle at the door.

There was the squeak of the door opening, then closing. In the dark, he heard a soft huff of breath as Mac (god he hoped it was Mac) came in, then a rustle of cloth. There was silence for a good moment, and he almost spoke up, but the soft sound of a choked sob in the darkness made him feel like he had been stabbed in the heart. He finally heard Mac fumbling with something, and a the sudden brilliance of a lighter was shocking after hours of darkness. Trying to control his own desire to cry and to speak past the lump in his throat, he said "Mac."

Mac jumped and shouted "Jesus Fucking Christ!" The candle he was holding and the lighter both vanished into the water with a soft 'ploop', and he heard the familiar sound of the younger man scrabbling for his rifle.

"Mac, Mac, it's OK, it's me. Vain. I'm sorry to scare you, I just... oh god I want to talk, I want to apologize, I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry, I want... shit..." Vain was babbling and he knew it. He fumbled with his own lighter, lighting the candle he had brought. In the sudden radiance, he could see Mac standing still and staring at him. His mouth was compressed into a thin line, but his eyes were like crystals made of pure suffering, and he wasn't saying anything. Vain took it as a good sign that he wasn't running, at least. Now that Mac was actually in front of him, all his fantasized speeches and plans and ideas were gone, and his mind was completely empty. Brutal honesty was all that was left. "Mac... baby... I'm so sorry I hurt you. I don't think of you as anything but wonderful, I never did." No response, though he heard Mac's breathing get heavier and ragged. "I don't know what else to say. I was trying to make a joke and it wasn't funny and I'm so fucking sorry and I can't... I can't..." Tears were running down his cheeks uncontrollably. His voice was choked and hoarse as he said "I have thought about you every minute of every day you've been gone. I missed you so much and I can't stand the idea of you not being there... I can't stand it Mac, I can't... I love you. I love you so fucking much. I never told you but I love you and I should have and... and..." 

Suddenly, Mac just folded up. One moment he was standing, the next he was half sitting and half collapsing against the wall of the shed. Vain was terrified for a moment that he was having a panic attack, but the younger man wasn't folding up into a tight knot, he was just sitting and staring off into space. Softly, tentatively, Vain crept across the space and sat next to him, but he didn't try to touch him.

"You know," Mac said in a quiet, almost conversational voice which Vain had never heard him use before, "I thought when I was young that I knew how things were gonna be. I thought I would get older, and stronger, and I would be the toughest, meanest motherfucker in the world. I was gonna be the Devil with a gun. And nobody would ever be able to hurt me again." He laughed, and Vain didn't think he had ever heard a more bitter, mirthless laugh in his life. "I'd already been hurt a lot, even by then. Kids are mean without adults to keep them in line. Little Lamplight was no party." Without looking, Mac fumbled out a cigarette from his pocket and reached for his lighter without remembering that it was now under five feet of water. Vain wordlessly handed his over and Mac lit his cigarette without acknowledging the gesture, then set the lighter down between them. Vain looked at it wondering if he should pick it up, but left it there for now. Mac continued on in the same gentle, quiet, utterly terrifying voice, staring into the gently lapping water in the channel in the floor, only the unfiltered cursing giving any indication this wasn't a normal bedtime chat. "With Lucy, I thought, well damn, this is great. Someone who isn't trying to shit on me. She can be married to the meanest motherfucker in the world, because I trust her. I could tell she loved me, it was plain as day, and she would never hurt me. Right? And then she died. And that hurt me worse than if she had fucking shot me and walked out." Mac took a deep, meditative drag on his cigarette. "I'd never been that hurt before. I didn't even think it was possible to feel like that and not die from it. If you'd told me it was, I wouldn't have believed it." He sat for a moment, thinking, smoke seeping from his nostrils. 

"If it wasn't for Duncan, I might have died from it after all. If not from the feeling, then from just putting a gun in my mouth one night and saying goodbye." He still hadn't looked at Vain, hadn't acted like he had even heard any of what he said. The older man wanted to speak, move, do something, but he couldn't bring himself to interrupt. "I thought about doing that a lot, sometimes. It would be so easy. I'd hate to leave Duncan behind, but... he barely knows me as it is. What the fuck did I have to stick around for? The only way I got through all the times those two sacks of shit stuck their dicks in me was that I had already been through worse. Because what the Gunners did was fucked up, but compared to losing Lucy it was nothing at all." Vain was crying again now, trying to do it silently but there were tears pouring down his face and he was spending a huge amount of effort not to sniffle out loud. "But what I never imagined, never even fucking conceived of, was that I could feel that way twice. I figured I had already been through the worst that life had to offer. I loved Lucy more than I loved my own soul, and I lost her, and there was nothing I could do. Not. A. Goddamned. Thing. But at least I was done with it, you know? I was at the bottom. It couldn't get any worse.

"Then I met you. And I knew, I just knew, I was setting myself up again. I didn't know what you saw in me... still don't. But whatever it was, you did. And just like Lucy, I could tell that you were a good person. Hell of a lot better than I am, or ever will be. I know I don't deserve you, but I tried as hard as I could to be somebody you could be proud to have. And I tried to convince myself that you would never hurt me." Vain wanted to scream that he wouldn't, he didn't, but Mac gave another one of those bitter chuckles and kept talking. "I kind of knew you didn't mean it when you said I was one of your projects. I know you joke when you get uncomfortable. It hurt like a motherfucker to hear even if you didn't mean it, but deep down I knew even if it was true, it didn't mean you didn't care." Vain was crying openly now, he couldn't help it. Sobbing and sniffling, even wiping his nose on his sleeve like a little kid, because he didn't know what else to do. This was like being vivisected while still alive. "It hurt and scared me when you almost died to that ghoul. That was really bad. But by the time we got to the Castle, it would have been so much worse than that. If you had died, I couldn't... It felt just like Lucy all over again. Because I fucking love you too. I love you so much. And it scares the shit out of me. Because I don't have it in me to feel that pain again." Vain was so overwhelmed that he didn't know he felt. Mac had just said he loved him back, but he said it in such an awful way... what do you say to that? Mac met Vain's gaze with eyes that looked like windows into Hell itself, and shook his head wonderingly. "I tried to run away, but you found me. I'm not strong enough to leave you again. Just coming in here and seeing you all of a sudden... I can't tell you what that meant. It hurt so much to be away from you, even while you were alive, I don't think I can stand not being with you. But if you died it would hurt even worse than that, and you don't care that you might die. I can't make you care. I can't make you see. I'm fucked if I stay and fucked if I go. And I don't know what to do." His voice had sunk to a whisper. "I just don't know what to fucking do." Mac was crying too now, silent tears sliding down his face.

"You're right." Vain forced out between clenched teeth. He finally understood, and he didn't really want to at all. "I didn't... I guess I didn't want to see." He coughed suddenly, all the congestion from his tears clogging his throat. Mac glanced over at him, still looking miserable. "I didn't think about anyone but myself. And... I don't know how to apologize for that." Mac made a low grunt, but he nodded slowly. "I guess I do have a sort of... not a death wish, but maybe a hero complex." Realization dawned on him, and Vain had never been less inclined to welcome self-awareness. Mac's soft chuckle didn't help him feel any better. "Wow... OK. Yeah." He blew out a breath. "When I was a kid, I was a real arrogant prick. I told you, when I was in school and then went into the Army, I was a stuck up little asshole, convinced I knew everything and that I was invincible. It never really occurred to me that I might get hurt." Looking back in his memory, how long had this been going on? More to the point, did he ever stop thinking that? "When I got this," his finger slid along his scar, "I thought I figured it out, but I guess I didn't. I got better, but looking back maybe better wasn't cured. It was the Army, and the shit my squad did... it wasn't even close to safe. None of us really thought we were going to make it back alive. I know I told you that you look like Zell, but maybe... shit, maybe I kind of combined you with Zell in my mind somehow, in spite of thinking I didn't. Because Zell knew we weren't going to live through it; he was convinced. Every time we would sleep together, he would look at me and say 'wow, guess I lived long enough to do this again'. I always laughed because it was so silly but... he wasn't really joking, babe."

Mac looked up and spoke directly to him for the first time that night. His voice was far from happy. "I'm not Zell, Vain. I'm Mac. I don't know what you've got going on in your head, but what I do know is, I'm me, not some guy you used to fuck around with. And I'm not real inclined to be compared to your ex right now." His face was burning with a mixture of hurt and anger.

"No, baby, I didn't mean that. I know you're not Zell, and there's no comparison. I'm just trying to explain why I do what I do, not... look, I'm bad at this shit, OK? I'd rather fight a deathclaw with just a stick than look in my own head. Too much of the shit in here is toxic." He took a deep breath and risked putting an arm around Mac's shoulders. The smaller man grumbled a bit but didn't throw it off or move. "My point is, it never occurred to me that life might go on past the war, past deployment, past... all of it. And that's the other thing. You said you hate how I try to help everyone. I did... we all did... horrible things in the war. You know I have nightmares, but... Mac, I killed a lot of people. Like, a crazy amount of people. And no matter how much I try to tell myself they were all soldiers, they weren't. Shadow Squad ops weren't... clean. We blew up whole villages, villages full of women, children, babies, old people. I didn't pull the trigger, but I killed them the same as if I had. We destroyed food that people needed to live. We poisoned water supplies, took out medical facilities..." He felt it all now pressing down on him, making him want to draw himself up in a knot like Mac did during panic attacks. He hated looking at any of this, dragging these memories out. "We were... OK, I was a monster. Maybe I still am. I think part of me is. That's why I always look so uncomfortable when you talk about what a good man you think I am. I'm not, babe." For the first time, Mac seemed to relax against him a bit. The irony of that confession making his lover feel more comfortable was so ridiculous Vain wanted to laugh. "But being here, helping people, is like... I don't know, my redemption in a weird way? It's like I get a second chance to make it better for someone, instead of having the only things I've done in my life be cause death and suffering and misery."

Mac gave a half-smile. "So look at us, a pair of monsters. Each of us convinced that the other one is the good one and we're fucked up. Pretty sad, isn't it?"

"... yeah." Vain sighed. "Sad indeed." 

Mac shifted around, tucking himself more firmly into Vain's side and laid his head on the older man's shoulder. "I get it, Vain. I know. You know I understand what it's like to have memories like that burning a hole in your mind. And I'm... OK, maybe I've been a shit about you helping people. I see it different than you do, but maybe I'm wrong. I'll think about it." Mac turned and face Vain with a look of total earnestness. "But I have to know you hear me. I can't lose you. We talked about this before, and you said that there weren't any guarantees. I know that. I know how shit can just happen, believe me I know. And I know you have to find your kid, and I'm with you on that, all the way. I'll do anything I can to help. I can take that risk. But I can't deal with you taking stupid chances and doing crazy things, for your settlers or the Minutemen or even for me. I don't know what Zell thought or did, but I'm Mac, and I'm begging you, please. Stop taking these crazy risks." His hand came up and slid along Vain's cheek, thumb wiping away the salty remnants of tears. "I want to get old with you. I want to sit with you in a peaceful place and watch your kid and my kid playing. I want to try as hard as I can to be normal people with a normal life. I don't know if we've got it in us," they both had to laugh at that, "but that's what I want. Does that sound like something you want too?" The hopeful sound in Mac's voice was almost too much for Vain to take. Jesus, he thought, I didn't know how much of a mess I was making.

"Yeah," he choked out. "Yeah, that sounds great, babe." Mac's smile lit up the whole boathouse. Vain was glad to see it, but looked down at his own lap, still uncomfortable. "I want to tell you one more thing. Something I realized in the past few days. Since we're sharing our souls, I'll tell you this too." Mac's eyebrows drew down, but he nodded. "When you thought I said I was taking you on as a project at the Castle, I was horrified. That wasn't what I meant. But I thought about it a lot. And I need to say this: that wasn't just wrong, that was the exact opposite of the truth. I need you to know that you are healing me probably more than I'm healing you. If anyone is a project in this relationship, it's me." Mac started to object, but he just shook his head wearily. "When I was in Shadow Squad, Zell and I weren't close like this. I didn't ever have feelings for him like I do for you. But I was forced to realize in the last week, it wasn't because I didn't want to, it was because I didn't let myself." Mac pulled back a bit and was watching him now. "I think... OK, I'm pretty sure he had feelings for me. I was just too much of a coward to acknowledge it. Partly because I was already married to Nora, and partly because we didn't expect to live, and I guess partly because I'm just a chickenshit. And when I saw you that first time, some part of me thought, hey, I get a second chance." Mac was beginning to look irritated and hurt again, and Vain hugged him tightly. "No, it's not like you think. Let me finish. Because the more I got to know you, the more I realized you were so much more than Zell in every way. If I'd dumped Nora for him, we wouldn't have lasted. He and I weren't that similar, other than being compatible in bed. You were the first one to show me that I didn't just enjoy sex with a man, but that I could love a man. Nora and I had problems; I told you that already. I married her because I was expected to, and it was fine. We got along great when I was deployed, and she was patient and understanding. I thought I loved her. I just didn't think about what it meant that I thought I loved her but was fucking around with my best friend every chance I got. Once I got home and we were together all the time, though, things were starting to unravel. I don't know if we would have made it for the long haul if the war hadn't happened." Vain grabbed the lighter from the floor and starting lighting it and letting it go out just to occupy his hands and distract himself from what he was saying. "You weren't a second chance, Mac. You were a first chance, and probably an only chance. You're the first person I've ever met that I thought I really wanted to go the long haul with, you know? That stuff about watching our kids playing and getting old, yeah. Yeah I want that. I want that a lot. But only with you." He finally leaned over and kissed Mac, and the taste of him was so familiar and so missed that he wanted to crawl into Mac's clothes with him and just wrap around him. He pulled back and looked into his eyes, dark blue meeting light blue in a moment of shared trust and vulnerability. "So yeah. I hear you. I get it. And you're right."

"I'm right, huh?" The joking sound of Mac's voice was more welcome than rain in a desert, and like the rain it made Vain's soul bloom. "And what does being right get me?"

"Well, I'm shit at knowing when I'm taking too much of a chance, obviously. So if it looks like it's the only option, I'm going to tell you about it first and let you help me decide. Is that fair?" Mac's kiss was all the answer he needed to give.

=

Early the next morning, Valentine came by the boathouse, but the door was blocked. Peering through one of the outside windows, he saw the two men tangled up around each other, asleep. Someone standing nearby would have heard him say "Well thank god for that" in a quiet voice. The synth turned around and sauntered off, whistling to himself. There was plenty of time. They'd be up eventually.


	17. Ode to Joy (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping up loose ends and showing our boys happily settled down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. It may seem a little abrupt to end it here, and if so, I'm sorry. I tried to wrap up as many of the loose ends with this as I could, and if I missed something, let me know. This has been a joy and a challenge to write, and it's the longest thing I've written in over 15 years. I've never done a chapter based installment work like this, so thank you for coming along with me on this journey of discovery. If I did something you thought didn't work, or if it all sucked and you just read it out of pity, let me know that too, please. :) Always seeking feedback.
> 
> For those who want to know, Sergeant Lee, the one who abused Peebo in the story in Chapter 2, is the Gunner Sergeant who is dead in the Salem Museum of Witchcraft. I tried as hard as I could to get them there, but they didn't want to go. Anyway, for those who care about such things, just know that Peebo was avenged in the end by an angry mama deathclaw.

Mac leaned forward to kiss Vain. The blond head twisted under him, lips to the side, hungry eyes and hungry mouth, a slight sheen of sweat on the forehead. A kiss, another, then a lunge and panting. Mac was almost completely in now, Vain was moaning breathlessly, head thrown back. The scent of Vain's hair was still around him as he thrust, deeper, another muffled howl from Vain, hips slamming together, smooth golden back under him, gorgeous ass under him being split open by his cock, so good. Amazing that they had gotten to the point where this was almost easy; Mac still remembered the first time Vain had tried to fit him inside, the pain, the worry, his own self-doubt, but now it was all resolved, all good, so amazingly better than good. He eased back and rocked forward, slower now, angling slightly differently just to hear the catch in Vain's breath, the whimper into the pillow as he found his lover's prostate and slid his entire length along it. The warmth around him was warm, tight, so very tight. He didn't know how much longer he was going to last.

A loud crack came from outside. Not a gunshot, just something falling over. Even at a moment like this, his parental instincts were never far away - he cocked an ear and heard Duncan's voice outside yelling something, Shaun's response, Codsworth's reassuring tones, good, no need to worry about interruptions from them. Everything safe. As safe as it ever got, anyway.

Vain noticed the brief distraction as well. "Close, baby?" came the whimper from underneath him. Blond head tilted, lust-glazed eyes glanced back, pupils blown wide and black, bitten red lips panting for air.

"Yeah," he replied breathlessly. He thrust, hips stuttering a bit as his control waxed and waned. He was in a slightly awkward position, being shorter than his lover, but it felt so good he would deal with leg cramps or other consequences later. His orgasm was building, coiling around deep inside, spinning like a wheel at the base of his spine but braced to explode. He realized he was all the way in, shocked as he always was no matter how many times he saw it, his pubes were pressed against flesh, every bit swallowed up by his lover.

"Me too... so... so... oh Mac, oh god," Vain panted. "I'm..." He didn't need to finish the sentence, the rhythmic contractions of his ass told the tale to Mac and simultaneously pushed him over the edge as well. With a series of grunts, head splitting, breath catching, feeling like his entire body was turning to liquid and pulsing out of the end of his cock into the body of his lover. His own ass was still sore from the night before, but he barely noticed, and who would have thought he would ever be able to say that? Coming down from the high of orgasm, he fell forward, still deeply embedded, catching himself on his arms as he nuzzled his lover's smooth throat.

"Love you," he whispered. Vain hummed and arched back, pressing against him in as much of a hug as he could in the position they were in. Mac could feel their heartbeats pounding in syncopated harmony.

"Love you too, babe... so much," came Vain's low reply. Every time they were able to be in bed together, fucking, sleeping, or just simply lying next to each other talking about anything and nothing, Mac was grateful. He never thought they would be allowed to be this happy, this complete. The madness of the first year, trips to the Glowing Sea, the Brotherhood appearing, the endless demands of everyone on Vain... Mac was always shocked to see him still alive when he thought about all of the things that had happened. "Mmm," came the sleepy sound of his lover's voice, "you're thinking again. I can tell. What are you brooding about now?"

Mac had to laugh at how well Vain knew him. "The usual." What else would he say, he wondered. It never gets old. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to have found you, and how crazy the stuff we've been through is." He twitched, knowing Vain could feel it since they were pressed together. "It would have been so easy for..."

"Stop." Vain said in an exasperated tone. "Enough. Nothing happened. We are here. We are healthy. Duncan is here, safe; Shaun is... well, Shaun. Sort of. We're together. The Institute is gone, the Brotherhood is mostly gone, and everything is fine. You always do this, sit and worry and spin yourself up for no reason about what could have happened... but it didn't." Mac knew better than to take that bait; he didn't want to argue right now, he felt too good. The kids voices resumed yelling again outside after a brief hiatus. Vain snorted. "We should get cleaned up and go out there. I don't know what fell over, but it sounded big." Vain grimaced. "Besides, I'm lying in a pool of my own jizz, and it's not terribly comfortable."

"Yeah, I wondered how long it would take you to start whining about that," Mac said, grinning. "Poor Codsworth will have to change the sheets again. I don't know what fell over from the sound, but you can sure tell they're our kids because of how much trouble they can cause. At least it wasn't Danse's armor again, remember when they knocked his T-60 over after he had spent all day working on the leg pistons?" He leaned back cautiously and pulled his softening member out of Vain, both of them grimacing at differing sensations, equally sensitive. Mac trailed his fingertips down Vain's exposed back, getting a shiver in response, then grabbed a towel from the nightstand for himself and his lover.

"God, don't remind me. I thought he would never wind down. I think the kids learned their lessons, though, and if they ever go in the military they'll know what a pissed off drill sergeant sounds like. I didn't think anyone could be that harsh without a single curse word." Vain chuckled, eyes dancing. "Took them almost an hour to stop crying. I think Shaun is still a little scared of him." He eased himself off the mattress, Mac chuckling at his groans and hesitant movements, and began looking around for clean clothes.

"Well, he's a scary dude." Mac had always thought Danse was intimidating. Sturges was bigger, true, but Sturges didn't give you the impression that only his willpower was keeping him from killing you. Danse on the other hand... "Curie's been good for him, though. I didn't think she would have the patience, but she's helped him almost as much as you've helped me." Mac ran his fingers through Vain's hair, arranging it properly on the side where it was still straggling down. Even after almost three years together, he still couldn't touch his lover enough. His hands were just hungry for the other man. Even when they were in public, Vain seemed to think it was funny that Mac was constantly holding his hand, touching his shoulders, hugging him, fixing his hair, but he couldn't help it. He'd spent so long without anyone, now that he had someone he trusted completely, he just... needed that comfort. The panic attacks were almost completely gone, but the memories of that frightening sense of aloneness, of unbearable misery and emptiness, would never be fully erased. Mac got off the bed finally and began pulling on his own clothes.

"And as much as you've helped me, babe." Vain was putting on his pants, but turned and wrapped his arms around Mac with his pants still unbuttoned and gaping at the top, shirtless torso pressing against him. If Mac hadn't just gotten off, he would have gotten hard at the sight and contact immediately; Vain really didn't know how hot he was. "You never realize how much better my life is with you than it ever was before, but it is, baby. It so is." Mac felt himself flushing a little, as he always did at praise like this. Vain glanced at the ruins of the bed, and grimaced. "And you get to tell Codsworth to change the bed again. He likes you more, so you have a better chance of not getting told off." Mac had to grin at the self-serving falsehood of this statement, but he would let this one go too. He knew how to pick his battles these days.

"Come on, then, lover boy," Mac said, grinning as always at Vain's grimace at the name, "let's go see what chaos our sons have made now." They made their way outside the house to where a patio table was lying on its side, a broken ashtray and scattered fragments of brown glass around. Codsworth came whipping around the corner at the sound of the door, slamming to a halt as he got close to them. Mac thought that if the robot had hands, it would have been wringing them.

"Oh Mr. Vain, Mr. Mac, so sorry indeed about the mess. The boys were horsing about, as young men do, I'm told, and this was the sorry result. I'm sad to say the items on the table were a complete loss. I shall clean it up straightaway, never you fear." The robot floated over and began picking up shards of ceramic and glass from the pavement.

"Codsworth," Mac said, "don't do that. Make the boys pick up after themselves. If they broke it, it would do them good to have to face some consequences." Vain raised an eyebrow but nodded at Mac's glance; they were in agreement on this. Funny how they agreed on so many parenting issues, despite being so different in a lot of ways, Mac thought fondly. He looked around for the boys themselves, figuring he would give the instructions so that Codsworth couldn't conveniently 'forget' and do it all himself, but as he looked up the street he saw... Piper leaving Sturges' house? Well, well, well. He nudged Vain and gestured with his eyes. Vain immediately grinned and ducked his head. "Well, s... shoot," Mac said, "looks like you win our bet after all." The dark haired woman slipped around the corner in an attempt to avoid detection; no way to tell if she had seen them watching or not.

"I could tell where that was going weeks ago. He's been alone ever since Marcy went with Jun to live in Starlight, and that was over a year ago. And she needed... something. I saw them eyeballing each other at dinner a few times, so..." Vain reached down to lift the table upright again and winced; Mac was almost concerned before he saw the wry look Vain gave him right afterwards. Oh, that was what that pain was. He giggled, and Vain swatted at him ineffectively. "Ha ha ha, so funny. Maybe next time I'll stick my whole leg up your ass and let you see what it's like, then we'll see how you get along afterwards." Mac flushed crimson as he always did. Even after all this time, it was shocking that Vain would just say things like that, let alone out in public. "Now if we could just find someone for Preston..."

"I keep telling you that Finch boy, Jake, has got the serious hots for him. If Preston would just..." Mac had gotten quite the earful from young Jake the last time they were at the Castle about how hot he thought Preston was. He guessed it took all types, but as far as he was concerned Preston was the same needy, overbearing ass he always had been.

"Preston thinks Jake is a kid." Vain looked amused but distant. "He can't think of him as anything other than that, at least right now. He is kind of spoiled and bratty, you have to admit. Maybe if he acted a little older..." Vain winced again as he sat down on one of the chairs set out in front of the house. Stretching his legs out in front of himself, he looked as peaceful as Mac had ever seen him.

"Well, Blue," came Piper's voice as she wandered around the corner of their house, looking nonchalant and as though she hadn't just walked out a door right up the street. "I see you're moving a little stiff this morning, having a good time, were we?"

"Looks like he's not the only one," said Mac laconically. "Having a good time, were we?" Piper's expression was a masterpiece. Vain tried to keep a straight face, but failed miserably, guffawing loudly at the offended and embarrassed expression on the reporter's face. "Care to start this conversation again?" Mac said, blinking his eyes in the most innocent way he knew. Piper finally just threw up her hands and sat down. Mac was amused to note that she sat just as gingerly as Vain had.

"MacCready, one of these days..." Piper shook her head, hair swirling. She pointed finger guns at him, something he wouldn't tolerate from anyone else. Still, Mac knew it was in good fun... and she was less than no threat to him.

"Piper," Vain said. "You're still just amazed at meeting someone who is as much of a smartass as you are. But you've truly met your match." He leaned back and closed his eyes, sun making him almost glow. Mac thought he looked like an angel there, sun shining on him, making his blond hair shimmer, tracing his fine, elegant features, lighting up the golden skin and even his scar looked calmer, smoother. "What's the news?"

"Not much going on," she said wistfully. "I heard a rumor that I need to confirm before I can tell anyone." At Vain's eyebrow, all Piper would say was "Population growth." He looked confused for a second, then made a face that Mac loved. Watching Vain figure something out was the best show in the world, he just lit up from inside. It was adorable. Piper went on, "Oh, and there was some word that the crew down in Jamaica Plains finally cleaned out that nest of raiders from the Red Rocket out in the middle of nowhere. You'll never guess who they were."

Vain made a thinking face, then waved one hand lazily to indicate he gave up. "Preston's grandparents. No, wait, the ghoul family we took the little boy back to."

Piper snorted. "You're as bad as MacCready; maybe I understand this thing you've got better than I thought. No! They were Gunners. What was left of some, anyway. How the mighty have fallen, huh?" She laughed, oblivious to Mac's fierce grin because she'd suddenly noticed the mess on the pavement. Vain met his eyes and knew exactly what he was thinking. They both mouthed 'K-O-S' at each other and grinned while Piper was distracted. "So what's with all the broken glass and ceramic bits? Is this a new decorating thing, or have our resident destroyers struck again?" She smiled and Mac realized that she looked calmer than usual. Hell, Vain was right, maybe Sturges was good for her. Vain groaned.

"The boys, right, that's what I was doing. Ugh." He stood up slowly and looked at Mac. "We have to go beat their asses because Codsworth won't. They have him completely wrapped around their fingers to the point where it's scary. Mac, you coming?"

Mac smiled at his lover, a beaming grin, and said "You lead, I follow. That was the deal, right?" He ignored Vain's groan and Piper's snort. Life was as good as it could be.


End file.
